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"MOPSY   WATCHED  THE  SPARROWS   HOLDING   HIGH   FESTIVAL  OVER   HIS   BREAKFAST." 
Frontispiece.  See  Page  144. 


Holidays  at  Home: 


BOYS     AND     GIRLS. 


By  MARGARET  VANDEGRIFT, 

Author  of  "  Clover  Beach  "  and  "  Under  the  Dog-Star." 

J  a 


PORTER   &    CO  ATE  S, 

PHILADELPHIA. 


Copyright  by  Porter  &  Coates,  1882. 


CONTENTS. 


\  u  :-?f  •-)  A  \[4  W 

-  v;-7:      -■  JuJs£3;  /••J-°"!-*;l 


PAGE 

THE  THREE  PHILOSOPHERS 9 

THE  COURAGEOUS  HARE 14 

MINCE  AND  STEW 17 

WHAT  PEPPER  SAID 28 

THE  OLD  PILOT 32 

THE  ILL-BRED  DUCKS      35 

A  TRUE  KNIGHT 40 

"IN  A  MINUTE" 55 

THE  TRAVELS  OF  A  CHRISTMAS  TREE     .    .  65 

HOME  WITH  THE  TIDE Si 

COURAGE S4 

A  HAPPY  BIRTHDAY gS 

THE  KING'S  THREE  SONS 115 

TWO  GOOD  FRIENDS 124 

TWO  WAYS 144 

THE  MAY-QUEEN 159 

MRS.  CLUCK'S  CHILDREN 163 

5 

501164 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

DARING 174 

THE  END  OF  THE  RAINBOW 197 

A  COUNTRY  MONTH 202 

OLD  NURSE 228 

FATHER  CHRISTMAS 233 

THE  BABES  IN  THE  WOOD •    •  241 

A   MAYFLOWER 251 

AN  OLD-FASHIONED  FATHER 256 

A   HOT  SUPPER 261 

ONE  STEP  AT  A  TIME 266 

THE  THREE  B'S 272 

MAKING  A   TABLEAU 2S0 

A  YOUNG  EGYPTIAN 288 

UNCLE  MOSES 291 

A  GENEROUS  DOG 296 


§^>-^ 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"  MOPSY  WATCHED  THE  SPARROWS    HOLDING    HIGH  pack 

FESTIVAL  OVER  HIS    BREAKFAST" Frontispiece. 

"  Mince  was  playing  happily  with  a  large  ball"  .  19 
"He  gave  it  a  vigorous  stroke  with  his  paw".  .  23 
"  He  was   putting  the  last  touches  to  a   little 

vessel" 25 

•'Well   row  the  bonny  maidens" 33 

"  She  turned   her  back   on   him  and   sat   down  in 

the   grass" 37 

"A  beautiful  rainbow  spanned  the  pond"  ....  47 
"  Grandma  sent  Bijou  with  a  bunch  of  grapes  "  .  49 
"  Two  refractory  horses  objected  to  being  shod  "  .      52 

The   donkeys   of   Ruth's   dream 59 

"She  seated  one  of  the  dolls  on  her  lap"  ...  61 
"  Rena    once    moke    counted    the    money    in    her 

hand" 67 

"  Happy   little    children   woke  to    search    their 

stockings" 75 

"  She  sat  on  a  rock  and  waited  " 82 

"  Lion  was   already   pulling  Baby  May  from  the 

water 93 

"Rover  and  Douglas  and  the  cat  and  the  kitten 

watched    her  " 105 

••  Each  of  my  subjects  must  sing   at   least   once   a 

r>AY" 117  , 

Deer  in  the   forest 121 

'•  the  baby  waked  and  played  with  his  fingers  "  .    1 3  i 

"Clementine  was  asleep" ...    139 

"  al.m  i  t  under  his  feet  was  a  snipe"  ....     i4i 

"  Polly   liked   ironing,  .  .  .  and  she   did   it  with 

all  her  might" i47 

"  Puck,  the  cat,  was  walking   round    Prince's  wa- 

tering-trough  " ' 153 

"  The  baby,  seated  on  a  stool,  and  Mopsy,  in  a  chair, 

each   sang" i57 

"Sceptre  and  train  to  grace  your  queen"  .  .  .  160 
"Seek  for  your  queen  where  hidden  lie"  ...  161 
"The   professor  of  crowing  gave  them  an  hour's 

lessor" 167 

"  Little  wateri-alls  came  bursting  out   between 

the  staves" 171 

7 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


"  She    fed    Don    from    her    hand    for    the    last 

TIME  " 175 

"We've  been   talking  over  the  wall" 179 

"They  found  her  standing  in  the  cove  beside  the 

OLD   PIER  " 183 

"  A  little  basket,  filled  with  a  cat-bird's  nest, 

*  swung  from  a  bough  " 187 

"  a  boy  by  the  wayside  bravely  seized  the  bridle 

and  held  him  "..... 193 

"She  was  lying  there,  the  darling!" 200 

"  That  lovely  bath  in  the  water-butt  was  too  cold 

FOR    HER  " 203 

"Cecil  fed  the  cows  out  of  his  hand"  ...  .  209 
"  Joe  was  whittling  out  a  willow  whistle  for 

Cecil" 221 

"  Two  fawns,  then  the  doe,  and  then  the  stag"  .  224 
"  A  frog  had  fallen  into  the  clutches  of  a  white 

goose" 227 

"Sometimes  she  tells  of  the  'good  folks'"  .  .  .  231 
"Grandpa  stood  there  .  .  .  with  Polly's  wreath 

on  his  head" 235 

"Fred  can  cut  out  animals  very  nicely'"  ....  239 
"  as  the  sparrow  went   peeping  about  he  met  a 

horned  beetle" 243 

"  There  the    sparrow  found  them   next  morning, 

ASLEEP " 247 

"  Nothing  moke  she  knew   until,   to  a   burst  of 

music" 253 

Mr.  Bullfrog  teaching  his  youngsters  to  swim  .  .  257 
"  Five  young  sparrows  saw  it,  and  each  made  a 

dart  for  it  " 263 

"  She  turned  aside  to  a  furze-bank,  and  wearily 

sat  down  " 267 

"  He  pipes  for  my  dolly's  dancing  " 270 

Jet  and   Pearl  and  the  calf 275 

"  Aunt  Alice  stood  me  on  a  chair  before  a  little 

GIRL  "  .  28l 

•'  They  stopped  me  in  the  middle  of  a  game  of 
Blindman's  Buff" 285 

"  What  a  very'  solemn-looking  little  boy  !"  .   .   .    289 

"  When  he  is  not  smoking  ...  he  tells  made-up 
stories"     293 

"  Reginald  gave  Dot  a  gentle  throw  into  a  wave  "  .    301 


Holidays  at  Home. 


THE   THREE   PHILOSOPHERS. 


up  his 
out  of 


THE  cow  had  lived 
*■     there    always ;    at 
least  she  supposed  she 
had,  for  she  could   not 
remember    any    other 
home,  and    she  had  a 
sort  of  misty  recollec- 
tion of  trotting  about 
that  very  barnyard  with 
ler  mother   when  her 
egs    were     not    good 
I  for  much.     So  she  felt 
it  her  duty  to  be  polite 
to  the  cock  and  the  tur- 
I  key,  who  were  compar- 
atively new-comers. 
The  cock  came  first.    He  came  in  a  basket, 
d  a  very  uncomfortable  time  he  had  of  it; 
EJUS   the  basket  was  too  small  for  him  ;   it  doubled' 
neck  and  made  his  back  ache.     But  it  didn't  take  the  crow 


him. 


He  rave  a    o-ood   loud 


Cock-a-doodle-doo-oo-oo ' 

9 


IO  HOLIDAYS   AT    HOME. 


two  or  three  times  as  the  farm-wagon  jolted  over  the  frozen  road ; 
he  wished  to  let  the  farmer  know  that  he  was  merely  suppressed, 
not  conquered ;  and  he  had  his  reward.  The  farmer  set  the 
basket  down  on  the  out-kitchen  floor  and  called  his  wife. 

"  Come  here,  Sally,"  he  said,  "  and  see  what  a  fine  fellow  I've 
brought  you  :  he's  crowed  me  all  the  way  home.  I'll  warrant  hell 
not  steal  the  corn  and  worms  from  the  hens." 

The  farmer  had  unfastened  the  basket  while  he  was  talking,  and 
the  cock  stepped  proudly  out  with  the  loudest  crow  he  had  given 
yet.  He  was  introduced  to  the  chicken-yard  at  once,  and  was  very 
careful  to  act  up  to  the  good  character  which  had  been  given  him. 

Not  many  days  after  the  turkey-gobbler  came,  and  it  was  in 
comparing  notes  about  their  journey  that  he  and  the  cock  became 
such  great,  friends.  The  turkey  had  come  on  horseback,  with  his 
lees  tied  together;  he  had  ridden  in  front  of  the  farmer,  and  he 
had  not  liked  it.  The  cow  was  very  kind  to  both  of  them.  She 
was  older  than  they  were,  and  she  gave  them  a  great  deal  of  good 
advice,  but  they  did  not  mind  it  much. 

"You  see,  we  can  always  take  it  pleasantly,"  said  the  cock  to  the 
turkey  confidentially ;  "  that  will  please  her,  you  know,  and  we  are 
not  bound  to  follow  it.  She's  a  good  old  thing,  but  she's  never 
been  either  a  turkey  or  a  cock — at  least  I  don't  believe  she  has; 
she  has  no  recollection  of  it." 

What  the  cow  chiefly  advised  them  about  was  being  philosophical. 

"  Don't  fret,  don't  worry,  don't  excite  yourselves,"  she  would  say. 


THE     THREE    PHILOSOPHERS. 


II 


"  '  Fair  and  easy  goes  far  in   a  day.'     It's  best  to  take   life  calmly 
and  coolly." 

"  That's  pretty  good  doctrine  for  a  cow,  perhaps,"  the  cock 
would  say  to  the 
turkey,  "but  I  don't 
think  the  hens 
would  think  much 
of  it,  especially 
when  grub -time 
comes." 

The  farmer  drove 
into  the  yard  one 
day  with  a  fine  load  II 
of  cabbages  from  a  WBk 
distant  field  ;  his  lit- 
tle boy  sat  on  the 
high  seat  in  front 
of  the  wagon,  hold- 
ing the  reins. 

"Oh,  father,"  he 
cried,    "mayn't     I 

,  .   .  .,        "JUST  THEN   THE  COCK  AND  THE  TURKEY  SAUNTERED  UP." 

throw     this     small 

cabbage  to  Crumple  ?     She  looks  as  if   she  wanted  one  so." 

"Throw  away,  then,"  said  the  farmer,  good-naturedly;   and  the 
little  boy  threw,  but  not  hard  enough  ;  the  cabbage  fell  on  the  wrong 


12  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

side  of  the  trough,  where  Crumple  could  not  possibly  reach  it. 
Just  then  the  dinner-horn  was  blown,  and  the  boy,  never  stopping 
to  look  which  way  the  cabbage  went,  jumped  down  and  ran  into 
the  house.  Crumple  was  very  much  annoyed  at  first,  but  just  then 
the  cock  and  the  turkey  sauntered  up,  and  it  occurred  to  her  that 
here  was  a  fine  chance  to  show  them  how  philosophical  she  was. 
So  she  told  them,  in  a  pleasant  conversational  manner,  what  had 
happened,  but  expressed  no  wish  for  the  cabbage  nor  anger  at  the 
boy. 

The  cock  and  the  turkey,  however,  were  quite  indignant  at  the 
boy,  and  said  that  if  he  couldn't  throw  straighter  than  that  he'd 
better  not  have  thrown  at  all. 

"  Don't  get  so  excited,"  said  the  cow  mildly ;  "  you  see  how 
calmly  I  am  taking  it." 

"  It  strikes  me  that  you're  taking  it  more  calmly  than  there's 
any  sense  in,"  said  the  cock,  a  little  irritably. — "  See  here,  friend 
Turkey,  if  you'll  take  a  good  grip  of  one  of  those  thick  stems 
with  your  bill,  I'll  take  another,  and  then,  if  we  both  lift  together, 
and  Mrs.  Crumple  will  just  stretch  as  far  over  the  trough  as  she 
can,  she  shall  have  her  cabbage,  after  all." 

To  this  Mrs.  Crumple,  after  many  apologies  for  the  trouble  she 
was  giving,  consented  ;  and  when  the  boy  came  out  from  dinner 
she  was  munching  the  cabbage  with  much  satisfaction. 

"  I'd  like  to  know  how  in  the  world  that  cow  managed  to  reach 
that  cabbage,"  said  the  farmer  ;  "  I  saw  it  fall  outside  the  trough." 


THE     THREE    PHILOSOPHERS. 


13 


"  Well,  ma'am,"  said  the  cock  as  Crumple  took  the  last  mouthful, 
"don't  you  like  our  philosophy  rather  better  than  your  own?" 

"  Perhaps  it  is  better,"  said  the  cow  reluctantly — she  did  not  like 
to  yield  a  principle — "  but  I'm  quite  willing  to  admit  that  four  heads 
are  better  than  two,  if  one  is  a  cabbage-head." 


THE    COURAGEOUS    HARE. 


|  T^HE  hare    lay  down    on  the    bank    of  a 

*■     stream,  weak  and  weary  with  running. 

She  had  succeeded  in  escaping  the  hounds, 

but  she  felt  that  a  few  more  runs  such  as 

that    which    she    had    made    this    mornine 

would  cost  her  her  life. 

"  I  might  as  well  let  the  hounds  kill  me 

and  be  done  with  it,"  she  murmured  sadly 

to  herself,  "  if  I  am  to  die  of  fright  or  of 

heart   disease." 

Just  then  a  frog  hopped  upon  the  bank,  close  by  her  head. 

"  Oh,  how  you  made  me  jump!"  she  exclaimed.     "  Couldn't  you 

possibly  learn  to  walk,  instead  of  hopping  in  that  startling  manner?" 

"  I'm   very   sorry,"   said    the    frog    humbly.     "  I    didn't    mean    to 

startle  you,  I'm  sure,  but  it's   the  only  way  I  can   go;  it's   the  way 

my  legs   are   made,  you   know.     But  what    has   happened  ?     You 

look  dreadfully  used  up." 

"Those  dreadful  hounds  have  been  after  me  afjain,"  groaned  the 

hare.     "  And  I've  three  quarters  of  a  mind  just  to   drown  myself 

and  put  an  end  to  it.     They'll  catch  me  some  day,  and  I'd  rather 

be  drowned  than  eaten — wouldn't  you  ?" 
u 


THE    COURAGEOUS    HARE.  15 

"Well,  of  course  /would,"  said  the  frog,  "because  when  they 
thought  I  was  drowned  I  wouldn't  be  ;  but  it  you'll  excuse  me  lor 
seeming  to  dictate  to  a  warm-blooded  animal,  and  one  so  much 
larger  than  myself,  I'll  tell  you  what  I've  been  resolving  this  morn- 
ing. The  boys  in  this  neighborhood  are  as  eager  lor  my  blood  as 
the  hounds  are  for  yours — I  heard  some  of  them  once  saying  my 
hind  legs  tasted  just  like  pork,  the  cannibals ! — and  though  I've 
always  succeeded  in  getting  off  so  far,  they  may  surround  me  and 
catch  me  any  day  ;  so  I've  made  up  my  mind  what  to  do.  I  heard 
one  of  the  little  wretches  tell  how  he  got  away  from  an  angry  bull 
that  was  chasing  him.  '  I  looked  him  right  square  in  the  eye,'  he 
said,  '  and  backed  slowly  off  to  the  fence  ;  and  he  actually  stood  still 
and  didn't  follow  me.'  Now,  I'm  going  to  try  that  the  very  next 
time  they  chase  me.  I  shall  just  look  steadily  at  them  and  back 
off,  and  they'll  not  dare  to  follow  me.  If  you'd  like  to  try  it,  we 
might  practise  on  each  other,  you  know,  so  as  to  learn  to  look  a 
good  while  without  winking — it  might  spoil  it  to  wink,  I  suppose — 
and  then  the  next  time  we  are  chased  let's  just  stand  up  firmly  and 
unflinchingly,  and  back  off  at  our  leisure." 

"  You  really  are  very  intelligent  for  so  small  an  animal,"  said  the 
hare,  admiringly.  "We'll  begin  at  once;  it  will  quiet  my  nerves, 
and  there's  no  telling  how  soon   we  may  need  to  try  it." 

So  for  fully  five  minutes  the  hare  and  frog  silently  and  steadily 
looked  each  other  in   the  eyes  without  flinching. 

A    large    spider   had    been    concealed    under   a    blackberry-leaf 


i6 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


directly  over  the  hare's  head,  and  now  he  chuckled  to  himself: 
"  I'll  give  them  a  chance  to  try  their  courage  on  something  small, 
just  to  get  their  hands  in,  as  it  were." 

So  he  softly  let  himself  down  by  some  of  the  string  which  he 
always  carried  in  his  pocket,  and  tickled  the  hare's  nose.  She  was 
so  busy  looking  the  frog  in  the  eyes  that  she  felt  him  before  she 
saw  him,  and,  lifting  her  eyes  suddenly,  she  mistook  his  dark  body 
for  a  dog  on  the  other  side  of  the  stream.  With  a  terrified  squeal, 
and  forgetting  her  fatigue  at  once,  she  bounded  into  the  bushes, 
and  never  stopped  until  she  was  <a  mile  away,  while  the  frog,  with- 
out stopping  t©  see  what  had  frightened  her,  plunged  into  the 
water.. 

The  spider  drew  himself  up  to  the  blackberry-bough,  chuckling 
harder  than  ever.  "  My  grandmother  was  quite  right,"  he  said  to 
himself:   "'Brae's   a  crood  door    but  Holdfast  is  a  better.'" 


MINCE   AND    STEW. 


F  you  had  asked  Mrs. 
Ahashuerus — who  was  a 
arge  gray-and-black  cat 
with  a  severe  expression 
of  countenance — where 
she  lived,  she  would  have 
said,  "  In  the  very  best 
cat  boarding-house  that 
everwaskept.  They  give 
us  fish  nearly  all  the  time  ; 
they  keep  the  house  afloat  a  long  way  from  land,  so  that  neither 
boys  nor  dogs  have  a  chance  at  us;  and  they  have  put  up  a  gym- 
nasium in  the  upper  story,  expressly  that  1  ma)'  teach  my  kittens 
how  to  climb." 

This  was  her  view  of  it.  The  real  fact  was,  that  she  and  her  chil- 
dren, and  until  his  sudden  death  her  husband,  lived  on  board  a  trim, 
little  sailing  vessel  engaged  in  the  coast-trade,  and  that  as  every 
one,  from  the  cook  and  the  captain  bold  down  to  the  midshipmite,. 
liked  cats,  and  especially  kittens,  she  was  allowed  to  believe  that 
the   whole   establishment   was   kept   up   expressly   for   her   benefit. 


1 8  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

She  had  met  with  one  great  sorrow  since  she  came  on  board  in  the 
loss  of  her  husband  ;  otherwise,  her  life  had  been  one  of  unclouded 
sunshine.  Mr.  Ahashuerus,  who  was  a  bold  and  daring  cat,  had  been 
named  by  the  captain,  who  was  fond  of  ancient  history,  and  his  wife 
©f  course  was  called  Mrs.  Ahashuerus,  but,  as  the  sailors  had  a 
good  deal  to  do,  the  name  was  shortened  to  Hash ;  and  when  the 
two  kittens  were  born,  the  mate,  who  had  asked  the  privilege  of 
naming  them,  called  them  Mince  and  Stew.  It  was  shortly  after 
this  that  the  head  >of  the  family,  recklessly  climbing  the  rigging  one 
dark  night,  was  pitched  into  the  sea  by  a  sudden  lurch  of  the  ves- 
sel, .and  went  down  before  a  line  could  be  cast  out  to  save  him. 
His  wife,  who  had  been  called  indifferently  "  Mrs.  Hash  "  and  "  The 
Missus,"  was  now  generally  called  simply  Hash.  She  brooded  over 
her  loss  a  good  deal ;  for,  although  Mr.  Ahashuerus  had  not  been  a 
model  husband,  having  been  somewhat  uncertain  as  to  his  temper, 
she  thought,  now  that  he  was  gone,  that  he  had  been  a  good  deal 
better  than  nobody ;  she  missed  the  companionship  of  some  one 
of  her  own  age,  and  she  foresaw  trouble  in  bringing  up  Stew  :  he 
was  wilful  and  impertinent,  and  had  a  particular  fancy  for  doing 
whatever  he  was  told  not 'do  and  going  wherever  he  knew  he  had 
better  not  go.  Mince,  on  the  contrary,  was  gentle  and  obedient. 
She  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  captain,  while  Stew,  who  knew 
well  enough  "  on  which  side  of  hi-s  butter  to  look  for  his  bread," 
had,  by  sundry  blandishments  and  exceptional  good  behavior  when 
he  was  in  the  galley,  made  the  cook  his  firm  friend.     "Hes  a  cat 


"MINCE   WAS    PLAYING    HAPPILY    WITH   A    LARGE    BALL." 


See  Page  21. 


MINCE    AND    STEW.  21 


with  some  spirit  to  him,"  the  cook  would  say;  "and  he's  a  good, 
sensible  dark  color,   that  don't  show  every  little  smudge." 

Hash  always  felt  uneasy  when  the  vessel  was  in  port :  boys  and 
dogs  had  once  or  twice  come  on  board,  and  she  was  afraid,  too, 
that  the  kittens  might  stray  along  the  gangplank  and  be  lost  on 
that  great  unknown  world,  the  shore.  So  one  day,  when  the  vessel 
was  moored  for  a  tew  hours  to  a  particularly  noisy  wharf,  upon 
which  she  had  seen  several  dog's  running-  about,  she  called  the 
kittens  into  the  captain's  state-room,  and  told  them  it  would  be 
safer  for  all  three  to  stay  quietly  there  until  the  vessel  should  sail 
again,  which,  she  had  heard  the  captain  say,  would  be  late  that 
afternoon,  at  the  turn  of  the  tide.  The  captain  had  very  kindly 
made  a  bed  for  Hash  and  her  family  in  the  snug  enclosed  place 
tinder  his  berth,  and  Stew  crawled  sulkily  into  this  bed,  saying  that 
if  they  were  to  stay  all  day  in  that  stupid  place,  he  might  as  well 
go  to  sleep.  Mince  was  playing  happily  with  a  large  ball  which 
one  ot  the  sailors  had  brought  the  kittens  that  morning,  and  which 
bounced  delightfully.  Stew  was  watching  her,  and  wishing  he 
had  not  said  he  would  go  to  sleep,  and  Hash,  with  her  eyes  cast 
thoughtfully  on  the  floor,  was  musing  on  the  different  dispositions 
of  her  children,  and  wishing  Stew  were  more  like  Mince,  when  the 
captain's  voice  was  suddenly  heard,  calling,  "  Hash  !  Hash  !"  loudly 
and  excitedly. 

Hash  never  disobeyed  her  captain,  so  she  sprang  up,  stopping 
only  to  say  to  the  children,   "Stay  here  until  I  come  back." 


2  2  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


Then  she  ran  to  the  place  from  which  the  captain's  voice  seemed 
to  come.     He  was  in  the  hold. 

"  There's  a  whopping  big  rat  behind  this  box,  old  lady,"  he  said 
as  soon  as  Hash  appeared.  "  Steady  now  !  be  ready  for  it  as  I 
move  the  box." 

Hash  was  ready,  and  succeeded  in  grasping  the  rat  by  the  neck, 
but  he  turned  and  gave  her  such  a  ferocious  bite  that  with  a  howl 
of  pain  she  dropped  him,  and  he  scuttled  behind  a  larger  box. 
Then  began  an  exciting  chase :  the  captain  was  obliged  to  call  the 
midshipmite  to  help  corner  the  rat,  which  was  finally  caught  and 
killed,  but  not  before  the  action  had  lasted  nearly  half  an  hour. 

Meanwhile,  Mince  had  grown  tired  of  playing  ball  by  herself, 
and  had  vainly  begged  Stew  to  join  her.  "You  see,"  she  said,  "if 
you'd  sit  over  there  while  I  sit  here,  we  could  roll  it  back  and  forth 
beautifully  ;  it's  a  very  roily  sort  of  ball." 

"That's  stupid,"  answered  Stew  fretfully,  "and  besides,  I'm 
hungry — hungrier  than  I've  been  for  weeks — and  I'm  sure  mamma 
has  forgotten  us  ;  she  couldn't  have  meant  us  to  to  without  our 
dinners.  And  it's  perfectly  safe  in  the  galley — just  as  safe  as  it  is 
here,  and  safer — for  cook  would  take  care  of  us  if  anything  were 
to  come  on  board;  and  I  should  just  like  to  know  what  we  would 
do,  all  by  ourselves,  if  anything  were  to  come  in  here.  Come  on ; 
I  must  have  something  to  eat  right  away,  this  minute." 

Mince  was  a  timid  little  thing — Stew  frequently  called  her  a 
"  'fraid  cat " — and  after  Stew's  unpleasant  suggestions  she  did  not 


MINCE    AND    STEW. 


23 


dare  to  be  left  alone ;  so,  very  unwillingly,  and  with  the  feeling  that 
she  was  doing  wrong,  she  followed  Stew  into  the  galley,  which,  you 
know,  is  the  ship's  kitchen.  Nobody  was  there,  but  a  large  basket, 
with  a  cover  laid  loosely  upon  it,  stood  near  the  table  ;  it  was  full 
of  something  moving,  and 
all  around  the  edge  stuck 
out  queer-looking  claws. 
Mince  immediately  jumped 
on  the  table  to  be  out  of 
harm's  way,  and  to  exam- 
ine this  strange  basketful 
at  her  leisure;  but  Stew's 
curiosity  was  more  active. 

"  I  think  they're  some 
new  kind  of  mice,"  he 
said  excitedly.  "  And  how 
proud  mamma  would  be 
if  1  were  to  catch  one  !  I 
mean  to  see  if  I  can." 

"  You'd  better  let  them 
alone  "    said     Mince    fear-    "HE  GAVE  1T  A  vigorous  stroke  with  his  paw.- 

fully  ;  "  they  look  dreadfully  wicked,  to  me." 

"  Baby  !"  said  Stew  disdainfully  ;  and,  giving  a  spring  and  a  grab 
all  at  once,  he  succeeded  in  pulling  out  on  the  floor  one  of  the  curi- 
ous creatures,  which,  as  you  have  probably  guessed,  were  lobsters. 


24  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


He  stood  staring  at  it  for  a  moment,  rather  frightened  at  the 
result  of  his  daring,  but  instead  of  trying  to  get  away,  it  lay  quite 
still,  excepting  a  feeble  motion  of  its  claws. 

"  Stupid  thing  !  why  don't  it  run  ?"  said  Stew  impatiently.  "I'll 
see  if  I  can't  make  it."  And  he  gave  it  a  vigorous  poke  with  his 
paw. 

Alas,  poor  Stew !  The  lobster  fastened  on  his  soft  little  paw 
with  an  iron  grip,  and  all  his  frantic  shaking  and  shrieking  failed 
to  make  it  let  go.  "He'll  kill  me!"  he  screamed. — "Oh,  Mince, 
you   coward,  why  don't  you   come  pull  him  off?" 

"  I'm  afraid,"  sobbed  Mince  ;  "  he  would  grab  me ;  and,  besides, 
you   shouldn't  have  meddled  with  him,   Stew." 

Just  then  the  lobster  gave  an  extra  hard  nip,  and  Stew  dashed 
out  of  the  door,  and,  not  knowing  where  he  went,  up  the  gang- 
plank to  the  wharf,  and  almost  into  the  arms  of — oh,  dreadful ! 
— a   boy  ! 

He  was  very  busy  putting  the  last  touches  to  a  little  ship  which 
he  had  been  rigging,  and  he  never  looked  up,  or  saw  Stew  at  all, 
until  the  lobster  struck  his  bare  foot;  then  he  jumped  up,  nearly  as 
frightened  as  Stew  was.  But  he  soon  saw  what  was  the  matter,  and 
at  first  he  only  laughed,  but  when  he  found  the  poor  little  kitten 
was  really  suffering,  and  frightened  nearly  to  death  besides,  he 
gently  held  him  fast  with  one  hand  while  with  the  blade  of  his  large 
knife  he  pried  open  the  lobster's  claw  and  set  him  free. 

"  I   do  believe,"  he  said,  as  he  stroked  his  soft  fur  and  tried   to 


HK   WAS    PUTTING   THE    LAST    TOUCHES    TO   A    LITTLE    VESSEL.' 


See  Page  24. 


MINCE    AND    STEW.  2"J 


comfort  and  quiet  him,  "that  you  are  one  of  the  two  kittens  that  I 
saw  on  the  deck  of  that  ship  this  morning.  Come,  then,  I  will  take 
you  home,  poor  little  thing!"  and  he  carried  Stew  down  the  gang- 
plank, holding  the  lobster  carefully  in  his  other  hand.  The  captain 
and  Hash  were  just  coming  up  out  of  the  hold  with  the  rat,  which 
had  at  last  been  caught,  and  the  captain  laughed  heartily  when  he 
heard  of  Stew's  adventure. 

"Served  him  just  right,"  he  said;  "he's  the  most  meddlesome 
kitten  I  ever  saw. — And  you  brought  back  the  lobster,  eh,  my  fine 
little  fellow  ?  Keep  it,  keep  it,  and  here  are  a  couple  more  to  go 
with  it ;  take  them  home  for  your  supper." 

Stew  was  so  ashamed  that  he  limped  away  to  bed,  and  never 
came  out  again  until  the  vessel  had  left  port.  His  mother  would 
have  spanked  him  for  his  disobedience,  but  the  lame  paw  hurt  him 
so  badly  that  Hash  said  it  was  punishment  enough.  And  indeed 
it  seemed  to  be,  for  he  gradually  broke  himself  of  his  dreadful 
habit  of  touching  everything  he  came  near  from  that  time,  and  his 
mother  no  longer  was  obliged  to  tell  him  a  dozen  times  a  day, 
"Your  eyes  are  not  in   the  ends  of  your  paws,   Stew." 


WHAT    PEPPER   SAID. 


mMMMM 


F)EPPER  was  the  dog-,  "and  a  ^ood 


dog  too."  You  had  only  to  look 
into  his  eyes  to  see  what  a  good 
watch-dog  he  was  ;  he  seemed  to  look 
forty  ways  at  once.  And  no  dog  ever 
had  so  many  different  barks.  There 
was  the  roar  with  which  he  scared 
away  tramps  and  chicken-thieves  ;  the 
pleasant  sort  of  chuckle  which  he 
gave  when  he  was  told  he  might  fol- 
low the  wagon  ;  the  shout  of  delight  with  which  he  welcomed  the 
children  home  from  school  or  from  a  visit  ;  and  his  talking  bark,  in 
which  the  children  declared  they  could  distinguish  words. 

Fritz  and  little  Irma  had  just  begun  to  go  to  school,  and  Pepper 
did  not  like  it  at  all.  He  missed  them  dreadfully,  and  every  morn- 
ing he  walked  with  them  to  the  end  of  the  lane,  telling  them,  as 
they  declared,  how  sorry  he  was  to  have  them  go  and  how  he  could 
not  play  without  them.  But  they  liked  school  pretty  well,  and 
always  told  Pepper  all  about  what  had  happened  when  they  came 
home.     He  met  them  always  at  the  end  of  the  lane  as  soon  as  he 

28 


WHAT   PEPPER    SAID. 


29 


"IRMA  AND   PEPPER  SAT  ON  THE  UPPER  STEP." 

found  out  when  to  look  for  them,  and  they  used  to  keep  some 
scraps  for  him  in  their  dinner-basket.  But  one  day  the  procession 
came  up  the  lane  very  silently  and  solemnly,  and  Fritz  carried  his 
slate  as  well  as  his   books  and  the   dinner-basket;  and  when   the 


30  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


mother  asked  what  was  the  matter,  Fritz  hung  his  head  and 
answered,  "  I  drew  pictures  instead  of  doing  my  examples,  and  the 
master  made  me  bring  them  home  to  do  ;  and  he  told  me  to  ask 
you  not  to  let  me  play  until  they  were  done.  There  are  three,  and 
they  are  hard." 

"  Sit  down  at  once,  then,  and  go  to  work,"  said  the  mother 
briskly  ;   "  they  will  not  grow  easier  by  keeping." 

So  Fritz  took  his  slate  and  sat  down  on  the  lower  doorstep,  while 
little  Irma  and  Pepper  sat  on  the  upper  one  to  encourage  him. 

"  We  will  not  play,"  said  Irma,  "  until  you  can  come  and  play 
too." 

Pepper  had  brought  the  last  plaything  they  had  made  him — a 
bunch  of  long  cock's  feathers  fastened  tightly  into  a  large  cork — 
and  laid  it  at  Fritz's  feet ;  but  when  he  found  there  was  work  on 
hand,  he  paid  no  attention  to  it,  but  sat  stiffly  up  on  the  step — 
"  trying  to   look  like  the  master,"  Irma  said. 

Fritz  did  not  feel  like  doing  sums.  He  leaned  his  head  on  his 
slate  with  a  great  yawn.  "  If  I  might  play  a  while  first,  I  should  not 
mind  so  much,"  he  said  fretfully,  "  but  this  is  like  having  school  all 
day." 

Now,  if  Pepper  did  not  understand  all  about  it,  I  should  like  to 
know  why  he  broke  out  that  moment  with  his  talking  bark.  This 
was  what  Fritz  thought  he  said  :  "  Go  to  work  and  do  it !  go  to 
work  and  do  it !  Folks  take  the  time  to  complain  that  would  do 
the  work.     Go  to  work  and  do-oo-oo-oo  it !" 


WHAT    PEPPER    SAID. 


31 


"  So  I  will,  then,"  cried  Fritz  resolutely. 

And  in  just  half  an  hour,  by  the  eight-day  clock,  the  examples 
were  done  and  the  children  and  Pepper  were  free  to  play. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Pepper,  what  a  wise  dog  you  are !"  said  Irma, 
giving  Pepper   a   hug  and  a   little   kiss  where   his  front   hair   was 


parted. 

And  Pepper  said,  "Thank  you." 
At  least,  Irma  said  he  did. 


THE   OLD   PILOT. 


0 


N  the  frowning-  height  of  Wolfsberg  a 


goodly  castle  towers 
fcCjlI     Far,  far  above  the  grassy  plain,  gay  with 
its  summer  flowers  : 
Long  had  the  Kolbergs  held  it,  but  now 

the  time  had  come 
When  a  stranger  knight  was  threaten- 
ing the  dear  ancestral  home. 


The  land-side  was  beleaguered.     "Our 

hope,  if  hope  there  be," 
Said  the  last  Kolberg,  "  resteth  in  those 
beyond  the  sea. 
Ten  thousand  times  'twere  easier  a  hero's  death  to  die 
Than  here,  like  wild  beasts  caught  in  snares,  helpless  and  sad  to  lie." 

Old  Nettleback  the  pilot,  the  oldest  man  within 
The  fortress,  said,  "  My  master,  thy  faithlessness  is  sin  ; 
For  see  across  the  water,  as  thou  speakest  thus  in  grief, 
The  good  ship  onward  speeding  that  bringeth  us  relief." 

32 


THE    OLD    PILOT. 


33 


At. C  ",-M-r 


"WELL  ROW  THE   liONNY   MAIDEN'S." 

Then  rose  a  mighty  tempest,  loudly  the  whirlwind  roared, 
The  lurid  lightning  flashing,  while  hail  and  rain  down  poured. 
The  brave  ship  struggles  onward,  the  roadway  gains  at  last, 
And,  as  the  guns  salute  her,  she  lies  at  anchor  fast. 


She  signals  for  a  pilot,  for  rocks  the  channel  bound ; 

Old  Nettleback  springs  forward,  but  where  can  men  be  found? 


34 


HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


Not  one  of  that  small  garrison,  who  has  its  perils  shared, 
Can  even  for  an  hour  from  the  defence  be  spared. 

Then  cries  the  pilot  cheerily,  "  Nay,  here  are  maidens  stout, 
And  each  one  good  at  rowing. — Come,  what  are  you  about  ? 
Dorothy,  Frida,  Lena,  Irmengarde,  and  Frinette, 
Come,  take  your  oars  and  follow ;  we'll  save  the  fortress  yet !" 

Well  row  the  bonny  maidens  ;  each  arm  with  hope  gains  strength ; 
The  pilot's  line  has  fallen  across  the  deck  at  length. 
He  gains  the  ship,  and  over  the  ocean's  deafening  swell 
His  voice  clangs  like  a  trumpet,  with  the  ringing  buoy-bell. 


"  Victory  !"  yells  the  garrison  ;  "  the  ship  has  gained  the  shore  !" 
Their  shout  of  triumph  rises  above  the  tempest's  roar. 
"  Now  God  be  praised  for  courage  so  strong  and  sure  to  win  ! 
We'll  gain  the  day — to  doubt  it  were  surely  now  a  sin." 

From  the  German  of  Feder  von  Koppen. 

H5 


THE   ILL-BRED   DUCKS. 


FAMILY  of  kingfishers  had  lived  for  many 
years  in  a  wood  near  a  lonely  lake.  The 
fishing  was  good,  travellers  or  sportsmen 
seldom  came  that  way,  and  so  every 
spring  the  old  nests  were  repaired 
and  new  ones  built  in  neighboring 
trees,  until  the  colony  was  a  very 
large  one.  But  one  day  came  a 
great  excitement.  A  young  king- 
fisher, who  liked  to  see  what  was 
going  on,  flew  home  to  dinner 
nearly  breathless,  and  reported  that  men  were  building  a  house 
near  one  end  of  their  lake. 

"  I'm  afraid  we'll  have  to  move,"  said  the  great-grandfather  sadly. 
"  If  there  are  men,  there  are  probably  boys  and  guns  ;  we  shall  be 
safe  no  longer." 

"  But  perhaps,"  said  the  young  kingfisher  who  had  brought  the 
news,  hopefully,  "  they  will  only  shoot  our  enemies,  the  hawks,  who, 
if  what  I  am  told  is  true,  catch  chickens  whenever  they  have  a 
chance,  and  ducks  too.  These  people  have  both,  and  the  ducks 
have  already  taken   possession  of  one  end  of  our  lake." 

35 


36  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

"  That  will  do  no  harm,"  said  the  great-grandfather ;  "  in  fact,  it 
may  do  good.  If  those  ducks  are  friendly,  we  can  form  an  alliance 
with  them ;  we  can  agree  to  warn  them  when  hawks  are  about,  for 
we  have  a  much  better  opportunity  of  seeing  them  than  creatures 
which  do  not  fly  can  possibly  have ;  and  they  can  warn  us  if  they 
see  the  people  in  the  house  making  any  preparations  for  gunning. 
But  there  is  time  enough ;  we  will  let  the  people  finish  their  house 
before  we  take  any  active  steps,  for  while  they  are  busy  at  that  I 
think  we  shall  be  quite  safe." 

Not  many  weeks  passed  before  the  house  was  completed,  and 
the  barn  too ;  then  the  wife  and  daughter  of  the  man  who  had  been 
building  them  came,  and  the  family  settled  contentedly  in  its  new 
home.  Now,  it  was  agreed  that  the  young  kingfisher  who  had  first 
brought  news  of  the  arrival  should  make  a  formal  call  upon  the 
ducks,  and,  should  they  seem  friendly,  propose  the  agreement  to 
them. 

So  he  set  off,  and  was  pleased  to  find  them  gathered  together  at 
one  end  of  the  pond  ;  the  old  ducks  were  looking  after  some  young 
ones  who  were  taking  their  first  swimming-lesson.  He  perched 
upon  a  bough  which  overhung  the  water,  and  made  a  few  polite 
remarks  about  the  weather  to  an  old  duck  who  was  standing-  on  the 
bank.  She  deliberately  turned  her  back  to  him  and  sat  down  in  the 
grass.  "  Perhaps  our  language  isn't  the  same,"  he  thought  to  him- 
self; but  just  then  another  duck  turned  her  head  slightly  toward 
the  first  one,  and  said  in  a  low  tone,  "Such  presumption!" 


ILL-BRED    DUCKS.  39 


The  young  kingfisher,  whose  family  seldom  used  a  long  word 
when  a  short  one  would  do  as  well,  did  not  quite  know  what  "pre- 
sumption "  meant,  but  he  quite  understood  what  it  meant  when  two 
of  the  ducklings  swam  under  the  stick  upon  which  he  was  perched, 
stared  very  hard  at  him  for  a  minute,  and  then  swam  toward  the 
bank,  eieehne  to  each  other,  "Well,  of  all  the  queer-looking  crea- 
tures !" 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  bill  ?" 

"And  did  you  notice  his  feet?" 

"Impudent  thing!  trying  to  scrape  acquaintance  with  our  family!" 

The  kingfisher,  full  of  indignation,  waited  no  longer,  but  flew 
back  to  his  family  and  reported  how  he  had  been  received. 

"There  is  no  help  for  it,  then,"  said  the  great-grandfather  sorrow- 
fully;  "we  must  flyaway  and  found  a  new  colony  in  that  great 
wood  by  the  river,  two  days'  flight  from  here." 

So  the  kingfishers  sadly  left  their  old  home,  and  founded  a  new 
one  many  miles  away. 

And  a  year  after  the  young  kingfisher,  hovering  near  the  old 
place  to  see  what  changes  had  been  made,  heard  the  man  who  had 
built  the  house  saying  to  a  neighbor,  "There's  no  use  in  trying  to 
keep  chickens  here,  or  ducks  either ;  we've  had  so  many  carried 
off  by  hawks  that  we've  given  it  up." 


A   TRUE   KNIGHT. 


H,  mamma,  the  funniest  old  woman  you  ever  saw  in 
your  life !"  exclaimed  little  Ernest  Kennedy,  burst- 
ing into  his  mother's  room  almost  as  noisily  as  if 
he  had  been  a  bombshell,  and  quite  forgetting  that 
his  cap  was  on  his  head  instead  of  in  his  hand. 
But,  somehow,  something  in  his  mother's  smile  must 
have  made  him  remember  it,  for  he  turned  even  a 
little  more  red  in  the  face  than  he  had  made  himself  by  running, 
and  took  off  his  cap,  saying  in  a  much  quieter  voice,  "  I  beg 
your  pardon,  mamma ;  I  didn't  think.  But  I  really  wish  you  could 
have  seen  her ;  I  never  saw  anybody  that  looked  at  all  like  her." 
"Indeed?"  said  mamma.  "Had  she  four  hands  or  two  heads, 
or  was  she  a  giantess  or  a  dwarf?" 

"  No  :  it  wasn't  in  that  way  that  she  was  funny,"  said  Ernest,  hesi- 
tating a  little.  "  She  had  on  queer  shoes  that  looked  like  boats, 
and  a  sort  of  fly-away  cap  instead  of  a  bonnet,  and  the  waist  of  her 
dress  was  'most  up  to  her  neck,  and  the  skirt  was  so  short  that  it 
made  her  look  very  funny  indeed." 

"  Then  it  was  only  her  clothing  which  was  '  funny '  ?  said  Mrs. 
Kennedy.     "You  gave  me  to  understand  that  it  was  she  herself; 

40 


A     TRUE    KNIGHT.  4 1 


and  there  is  a  very  wide  difference,  you  know.  I  hope  my  little 
boy  was  not  so  rude  as  to  let  his  amusement  at  this  old  woman 
be  seen  ?" 

Ernest  hung  his  head,  but  he  was  as  truthful  as  he  was  thought- 
less, and  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  did  laugh,  mamma,  but  it  was 
partly  at  what  Harry  Rhoads   said." 

"And  what  did  he  say?"  asked  Mrs.  Kennedy. 

"  He  asked  what  she'd  take  for  her  gunboats,"  he  answered,  very 
low  indeed. 

Mrs.  Kennedy  looked  sorry.  "And  is  this  my  little  True 
Knight,"  she  said,  "who  told  me  the  other  day  that  when  he  grew 
up  he  meant  to  be  another  Sir  Galahad,  and  ride  through  the  world 
protecting  all  the  weak  people,  and  comforting  all  the  sorrowful 
ones,  and  punishing  all  the  cruel  ones  ?  And  he  begins  by  laugh- 
ing at  an  old  woman,  who,  from  her  dress,  must  be  a  stranger  in  a 
strange  land,  and  joining  in  a  rude  and  senseless  joke  about  her 
to  her  very  face !" 

The  little  boy  stood  silent  for  a  moment,  with  his  face  working  to 
keep  back  the  tears,  and  then  he  threw  himself  sobbing  into  his 
mother's  arms.  "  Indeed,  indeed,  I  did  not  think,  mamma,"  he  said 
presently,  "  but  I'll  never  do  it  again  ;  and  the  very  next  time  I 
see  her  I'll  tell  her  how  sorry  I  am." 

"  Now  I  have  my  little  True  Knight  again,"  said  his  mother,  kiss- 
ing away  his  tears ;  "  and  you  will  soon  have  a  chance  to  apologize 
to  the  old  woman,  for  I  think   I   know  who   she   is.     Mr.   Chipman 


42  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


told  me  the  other  day  that  if  I  wished  any  washing  or  cleaning  done, 
he  knew  of  a  poor  woman  who  would  be  very  glad  to  do  it ;  and  when 
I  asked  him  who  it  was,  he  said  he  couldn't  possibly  pronounce  her 
name,  much  less  spell  it,  but  that  he  knew  where  she  lived,  and 
that  she  had  lately  come  from  Germany.  She  has  taken  that  little 
tumbledown  house  on  the  street  that  Mr.  Chipman's  store  is  on, 
but  away  out  in  the  fields,  and  you  and  I  might  walk  there  this 
afternoon,  as  we  each  have  an  errand  to  her." 

"  It  must  be  the  same  old  woman,"  said  Ernest  joyfully,  "  for  I 
saw  her  go  out  that  very  street :  and  there  couldn't  be  two ;  do 
you  think  there  could,  mamma  ?" 

"There  might  possibly  be,"  said  his  mother,  smiling,  "but  it  is  not 
at  all  probable.  Now  run  and  wash  your  face  and  hands  and 
smooth  your  mane,  or  dinner  will  be  ready  for  you  before  you  are 
ready  for  it." 

There  was  nobody  to  dispute  Ernest's  right  to  the  "  pull-bone  " 
of  the  chicken  that  graced  the  dinner-table,  for  he  had  neither 
sister  nor  brother ;  but  by  his  own  request  he  was  helped  first  to 
the  "drumstick,"  and  just  as  he  was  holding  out  his  plate  for  a 
second  help  an  idea  occurred  to  him.  "  Mamma,"  he  said,  "  do 
you  think —  Might  I  keep  the  rest  of  my  share  of  the  chicken  to 
take  to  the  old  woman  ?  I  could  finish  on  bread  and  gravy,  you 
know ;  I'm  not  near  full  yet." 

"Yes,  I  think  that  would  be  a  very  good  plan,"  replied  his 
mother.     "  I  will  put  it  on  a  plate,  and  add  the  vegetables,  and  some 


A     TRUE    KNIGHT.  43 


cranberry  in  a  little  bowl,  and  if  you  wish  to  make  it  still  better  you 
might  give  her  your  dessert." 

Ernest  hesitated  a  little.  "What  is  for  dessert  to-day,  mamma?" 
he  asked. 

"  Peg&y's  '  queen  of  puddings,'  "  answered  his  mother. 

Ernest  looked  very  undecided.  Of  all  Peggy's  puddings,  the 
"  queen,"  he  thought,  best  deserved  that  name.  But  he  suddenly 
remembered  the  surprised,  distressed  face  of  the  poor  old  woman 
as  she  stood  among  the  laughing  boys  of  whom  he  had  been  one. 
"I'll  do  it,  mamma,"  he  said  resolutely,  "  but  you'll  excuse  me,  won't 
you,  before  the  pudding  comes  in  ?  I'm  'most  afraid  I  couldn't 
stand  it  if  I  were  once  to  see  it." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Kennedy ;  "  I  think  that  will  be  a  wise 
thing  to  do.  And  don't  you  think  that  perhaps  '  Lead  us  not  into 
temptation'  means  something  like  this:  'Let  us  not  be  led,  not 
stay,  where  we  will  be  tempted '  ?  You  know  it  is  so  much  easier 
to  give  anything  up  when  we  go  quite  away  from  it,  instead  of 
lingering  around  and  looking  at  it." 

"I  never  thought  of  that  before,"  said  Ernest  seriously,  "but  I'll 
try  to  remember  it,  mamma ;  and  oh,  please  excuse  me,  for  I  hear 
Peggy  coming  with  the   pudding." 

It  was  only  to  save  Peggy's  feelings  that  Mrs.  Kennedy  ate  her 
share  of  pudding  that  day,  for  she  knew  how  real  her  boy's  self- 
denial  had  been,  and  the  "  queen  "  might  have  been  the  least  of 
her  subjects,  for  all   the  pleasure  she  gave  Mrs.   Kennedy.     But 


44  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


Peggy  was  sensitive  about  the  _  treatment  which  her  dainties 
received,  so  a  slice  was  duly  eaten,  and  another,  double  in  size, 
put  into  a  deep  saucer,  and  then  into  a  basket  with  the  nicely- 
covered  plate  containing  the  dinner,  and  a  pretty  napkin  spread 
over  the  whole. 

It  was  quite  a  long  walk  from  Mrs.  Kennedy's  house,  which  was 
just  outside  the  town,  to  the  forlorn  old  hut  in  which  the  poor 
German  woman  lived ;  but  the  day  was  bright  and  pleasant,  Ernest 
and  his  mother  had,  as  usual,  a  good  deal  to  talk  about,  and  they 
thought  the  end  of  the  walk  came  very  soon.  They  found  the  old 
woman  at  home,  busily  digging  up  the  little  strip  of  garden  in  front 
of  her  house  ;  and  Ernest,  who  was  very  much  afraid  that  his 
courage  would  fail,  whispered  to  his  mother,  "  Let  me  speak  first, 
please,  mamma." 

It  was  quite  evident  that  the  old  woman  did  not  recognize  him, 
which  made  it  all  the  harder,  but  he  "took  his  courage  by  both 
hands,"  as  somebody  says,  and  marched  up  to  her,  thinking  of  Sir 
Galahad,  and 

"  My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten, 
Because  my  heart  is  pure." 

He  made  his  best  bow,  and  said  resolutely,  "  I've  come  to  beg 
your  pardon,  ma'am.  I  was  very  rude,  and  laughed  at  you  this 
morning,  and  I'm  truly  sorry.  Will  you  please  forgive  me  ?"  and 
he  held  out  his  hand. 

The  old  woman  looked  steadily  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then 


A     TRUE    KNIGHT.      '  45 


a  great  tear  rolled  down  her  sunburned  face.  I  will  not  attempt 
to  write  the  broken  English  in  which  she  spoke,  but  Ernest  could 
understand  her  quite  well,  and  this  is  what  she  said:  "And  I 
thought  all  the  little  American  boys  were  bad  and  rude,  and  here 
is  a  little  gentleman  who  asks  pardon  of  an  old,  poor  woman  like 
me ! — My  dear,  I  was  not  angry,  only  sorry.  I  said  to  myself, 
'  Those  little  boys  do  not  know  what  it  means  to  be  old  and  poor 
and  alone,  or  they  would  not  laugh  ;  they  would  be  more  like  cry- 
ing.' But  do  not  feel  any  trouble ;  I  had  forgiven  you  before,  and 
now,  if  you  will  let  me,  I  will  love  you." 

He  had  been  afraid  that  she  would  be  too  angry  even  to  listen 
to  him ;  he  knew  how  being  laughed  at  had  always  terribly  enraged 
him  ;  and  he  looked  up  at  her,  saying  simply,  "  I  think  you  must  be 
very  good." 

"My  dear,"  she  answered,  "shall  I  be  angry  for  a  little  laugh- 
ing, when  my  holy  Master  prayed  that  His  bitter  enemies  might 
be  forgiven  ?" 

Mrs.  Kennedy  found  old  Madelon  only  too  thankful  for  the  prom- 
ise of  work  ;  so  when  that  was  settled  they  had  a  pleasant  talk  about 
gardening  and  chickens  and  dogs  and  cats ;  and  Madelon  took 
them  to  the  shed  at  the  back  of  her  house  to  show  Ernest  her  two 
broods  of  young  pigeons,  which  she  intended  raising  to  sell.  He 
was  delighted  with  the  pretty  little  white  creatures,  and  could 
scarcely  talk  of  anything  else  all  the  way  home,  wondering  whether 
if  he  should  save  his  weekly  six  cents  until  the  pigeons  were  old 


46  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


enough  to  be  taken  from  the  mother-bird,  he  would  have  enough 
money  to  buy  one  for  his  own  particular  pet. 

His  knighthood  was  put  to  more  than  one  severe  test  in  the 
weeks  which  followed.  Madelon  seemed  fated  to  meet  the  school- 
boys at  least  two  or  three  times  a  week,  and  the  howl  of  derision 
which  greeted  Ernest  when,  a  few  days  after  his  visit,  he  took  off 
his  cap  and  spoke  to  her  pleasantly  as  she  passed  them,  was  almost 
too  much  for  his  resolution  ;  but  he  thought  again  of  Sir  Galahad, 
and  of  Him  for  whom  Sir  Galahad  was  fighting,  and,  to  his  great 
surprise,  the  boys  soon  ceased  to  ridicule  him,  and  one  or  two  of 
them  even  began  to  say  it  was  "  a  shame  "  for  the  rest  "  to  make 
fun  of  the  poor  old  soul."  Madelon  soon  had  plenty  to  do,  for 
Mrs.  Kennedy  found  her  so  faithful  and  efficient  that  she  could 
safely  recommend  her  to  others,  and  the  forlorn  house  began  to 
have  a  look  of  neatness  and  comfort  which  would  have  been 
thought  impossible  by  any  one  seeing  it  a  few  months  before. 

The  time  had  come  when  Ernest's  mother  always  took  him  for 
the  yearly  visit  to  her  mother  and  father,  who  lived  about  five 
miles  out  of  the  little  city  where  Ernest's  home  was.  This  visit 
was  the  greatest  delight  of  the  whole  year,  and  was  eagerly  looked 
forward  to  for  weeks  before  the  time  arrived. 

But  when  this  year  the  day  came  upon  which  they  were  to  go, 
Ernest  felt  strangely  heavy  and  dull,  and  his  mother  began  to 
think  something  must  be  the  matter  when  the  carriage  came  for 
them   and  he  got  quietly  into   it,   with   none  of  his  usual  joyful 


A     TRUE    KNIGHT. 


47 


excitement.  There  had  been  several  showers  during  the  day,  and 
as  they  drew  near  the  farm  a  beautiful  rainbow  spanned  the  pond, 
but  Ernest  went  into  no  raptures  ;  he  merely  said,  "  Yes,  it's  very 
pretty,   mamma ;"  and   he   distressed  grandma,   after  their  arrival, 


"A    BF.AUTIFUL   RAINBOW   SPANNED   THE    POND." 

by  eating  scarcely  any  supper  and  proposing  to  go  to  bed  imme- 
diately afterward,  although  he  had  not  yet  seen  the  new  calf  or  the 
kittens.  And  the  next  morning,  after  frightening  everybody  out 
of  their  wits  by  looking  as  if  he  had  the  small-pox,  he  relieved  their 
minds  by  only  having  chicken-pox. 


48  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


But  he  did  not  think  there  was  any  "  only  "  about  it,  poor  little 
boy !  To  be  shut  up  in  one  room  with  all  out-of-doors  calling  to 
him  to  come  and  enjoy  it ;  to  be  obliged  to  postpone  indefinitely  the 
visits  he  had  intended  making  to  the  calf  and  the  kittens,  and  the 
egg-hunting  expeditions  when  the  hens  were  cackling  under  his 
window  as  if  they  were  crazy  :  it  did  seem  too  much.  He  tried 
hard  to  be  patient  and  not  to  give  his  mother  trouble,  but  it  was 
difficult  work,  and  he  said  one  day,  rather  fretfully,  "This  isn't 
like  being  a  knight  at  all,  mamma.  I  don't  believe  Sir  Galahad 
ever  had  chicken-pox — do  you  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  dear,"  replied  his  mother,  smiling  a  little  in  spite 
of  herself,  "  but  you  may  be  sure  he  had  things  to  bear  that  were 
quite  as  hard.  You  know  he  rode  on  through  the  bitter  winter 
nights,  never  stopping  at  any  of  the  pleasant  homes  whose  lighted 
windows  he  passed ;  and  he  was  not  fighting  then,  but  only  endur- 
ing, which  is  much  harder.  So  my  little  knight  must  learn  to 
endure  too.  Don't  you  remember,  when  you  were  looking  up  all 
the  texts  about  soldiers  and  fighting,  how  much  you  liked  this 
one:  'Endure  hardness  as  good  soldiers  of  Christ'?  Now  you 
have  the  best  possible  chance  to  practise  it." 

"  Mamma,  I  think  you  must  be  Mrs.  Interpreter,"  said  Ernest 
joyfully.  "  I  never  thought  of  it  in  that  way,  but  I  will  not  grumble 
another  single  grumble — you  see  if  I  do." 

His  resolution  was  sorely  tried  the  very  next  day.  He  was 
growing  better  rapidly,  but  not  more  comfortable,  for  the  bed  felt 


'GRANDMA  SENT  BIJOU  WITH   A  BUNCH  OF  GRAPES."  See  Page  5I. 


A     TRUE    KNIGHT.  5 1 


as  if  it  were  stuffed  with  chestnut-burrs,  his  eyes  were  too  weak 
even  for  looking  at  pictures,  and  his  restlessness  made  reading 
aloud  seem  tedious. 

Grandma  sent  Bijou,  her  funny  little  Skye  terrier,  with  a  bunch 
of  white  grapes,  which  he  carried  carefully  by  the  stem,  just  as  he 
had  been  told,  and  he  sat  on  the  bed  and  offered  his  paw  to  Ernest 
with  a  very  sympathizing  face.  But  the  little  boy  was  soon  tired 
even  of  Bijou.  It  was  a  very  rainy  day,  and,  tantalizing  as  it  had 
been  to  have  "those  conceited  old  hens"  announcing-  their  eofSfS 
under  his  window,  and  the  birds  singing  in  the  cherry  tree  just 
outside  it,  the  silence  into  which  the  pouring  rain  had  driven  them 
seemed  even  worse. 

A  long  stretch  of  open  fields  lay  before  his  window,  with  the 
road  from  the  town  winding  through  it,  and  it  had  been  one  of  his 
amusements  to  watch  the  people  coming  and  going,  and  the  farmers 
bringing  their  horses  to  the  blacksmith's  shop,  which  stood  beside 
the  road.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  travel  on  it  during  the  day, 
notwithstanding  the  rain,  and  Ernest  sat  up  in  bed  for  some  time, 
more  interested  in  two  refractory  horses,  which  objected  to  being 
shod,  than  he  had  been  in  anything  all  that  dull  morning ;  but 
after  a  while  his  back  ached  so  that  he  was  obliged  to  lie  down 
again. 

"  I  will  count  five  hundred  with  my  eyes  shut,  mamma,"  he  said, 
"  before  I  look  any  more." 

The  counting  made  him  drowsy,  and   he  was  just  dropping  into 


52 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


"TWO   REFRACTORY   HORSES  OBJECTED  TO   BEING  SHOD." 

a  doze  when  his  mother,  who  was  standing  at  the  window,  suddenly 
exclaimed,  "  I  do  believe  that  is  old  Madelon  coming  along  the 
road.  Yes,  it  really  is.  Why,  the  poor  old  soul  must  have  walked 
all  the  way  from  town  in  this  pouring  rain;  and  there  is  her  funny 
little  black  dog  with  her ;  and — can  you  see,  Ernest? — what  it  is  that 
she  has  in  her  basket  ?     It  is  something  white." 

Just  then  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  turned  Madelon's  large  umbrella 
completely  inside  out ;  her  cap-ribbons — for  she  seldom  wore  a 
bonnet — fluttered  wildly  in  the  wind  ;  the  white  thing  in  the  basket 


A     TRUE    KNIGHT.  53 


fluttered  too ;  but  Madelon  and  the  little  black  dog,  Fritz,  plodded 
steadily  on,  and  reached  the  gate  at  last,  so  dripping  wet  that  no  per- 
suasion could  make  them  come  farther  than  the  out-kitchen,  and 
even  then  the  old  woman  apologized  humbly  for  the  "  muss  "  that 
she  and  Fritz  made  on  the  clean  brick  floor. 

Grandmother  Russell  hastily  hunted  up  some  old  clothes  for 
Madelon  to  put  on ;  Fritz  made  his  toilet  by  a  succession  of  violent 
shakes ;  and  when  both  were  perfectly  dry  they  were  shown  into 
Ernest's  room.  The  basket  went  too,  and  in  it  was  the  very  pret- 
tiest white  pigeon  that  he  had  ever  seen.  It  had  a  fluffy  topknot, 
a  fluffier  ruff  round  its  neck,  and  a'  fan-tail  of  which  it  seemed 
immensely  vain. 

It  was  perfectly  tame,  and  its  soft  cooing  as  it  fluttered  and 
strutted  about  the  room  sounded  to  Ernest  like  the  sweetest 
music. 

"And  you  really  brought  it  for  me?  quite  for  my  own  ?"  he  said, 
putting  up  his  face  to  give  old  Madelon  the  kiss  which  he  consid- 
ered his  warmest  expression  of  thanks. 

"For  thee,  dear  little  one,"  answered  Madelon  with  a  tender 
smile;  "and  I  would  it  were  much  more,  but  it  is  my  best." 

"  But,  you  poor,  dear  woman,  why  did  you  take  this  long  walk 
on  such  a  terribly  rainy  day  ?  and  how  did  you  know  that  Ernest 
was  ill?"  asked  Mrs.  Kennedy,  laying  her  hand  kindly  on  the  old 
woman's  shoulder. 

"  It  was  Mr.  Chipman  who   told  me    of  the  illness,"   answered 


54  HOLIDAYS   AT    HOME. 


Madelon  ;  "  and  this  was  the  very  first  day  on  which  I  had  not  to 
work  ;  and  the  rain  is  not  so  bad  to  me,  dear  madame,  as  it  would 
be  to  you,  so  often  I  have  walked  to  my  work  in  storms  worse  than 
this  soft,  warm  rain,  which  only  wets  ;  it  does  not  freeze  and  chill. 
And  I  said  to  myself  that  the  little  boy  would  be  feeling  yet  more 
dull  to-day  because  of  the  rain,  and  that  even  a  small  thing  would 
amuse  him;  so  Fritz  and  I  walked  stoutly  on,  and  here  we  are. 
The  poor  umbrella !   it  has  had  the  worst." 

Grandmother  Russell  would  not  hear  of  Madelon's  returning 
home  that  night,  so  she  and  Fritz  were  made  comfortable  with  good 
suppers  and  good  beds  ;  and  in  the  morning,  just  as  she  was  cheer- 
fully starting  on  her  five-mile  walk,  long  before  six  o'clock,  in  order 
to  be  in  time  for  her  day's  work,  grandfather  drove  up  to  the  door 
in  the  "  Germantown  wagon,"  announcing  that  he  had  an  early 
errand  to  do  in  town,  and  that  she  must  allow  him  the  pleasure 
of  taking  her  home.  And  when  she  uncovered  the  basket  in  which 
the  white  pigeon  had  travelled,  she  found  one  of  grandmother's 
loaves  of  sweet  brown  bread  and  two  of  her  special  prints  of 
"grass  butter." 

And  the  result  of  a  long  "  think  "  which  Ernest  took  just  before 
he  went  to  sleep  that  rainy  evening  was  this  somewhat  singular 
remark:  "  Mamma,  I  don't  think  I'm  much  of  a  True  Knight;  I 
think  it's   Madelon." 


El*?3fr^>~-  ,.     can   help  you   get  the  children   read)-."    J£jpj^ 


"Yes,  dear,"  said  mamma,  smiling,  for  of  these  "children"  one 
was  two  years  older  than  Bessy,  and  the  other  only  a  year 
younger, — "yes,  dear,  I  will  call  you  in  time  to  help  me,  but  I 
shall  be  quite  satisfied,  and  a  little  surprised,  if  you  have  your- 
self ready  in   time." 

"Oh,  mamma!"  said  Bessy  reproachfully;  "as  if  I  could  help 
being  ready  for  such  a  day  as  we're  going   to  have  to-morrow!" 

"  But  you   know,   dear,"   replied   her   mother,  "  how   many  times, 

55 


56  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


even  pleasant  times,  you  have  kept  us  waiting  for  one  of  your 
'  minutes ;'  and  to-morrow  morning,  if  you  are  not  ready,  we  must 
just  go  without  you,  for  trains  and  boats  are  like  time  and  tide — 
they  wait  for  no  man." 

"Well,  if  I  don't  get  right  straight  up  when  you  call  me,  mamma," 
said  Bessy,  ."  I  wish  you  would  please  pinch  me,  and  pull  all  the 
bed-clothes  off  me,  and  sprinkle  cold  water  in  my  face." 

"  I'll  help  with  the  pinching  and  cold-water  business,"  said  Rob 
obligingly  ;  and  Ruth  added  cheerfully,   "  So  will  I,  Bess." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wylie,  the  father  and  mother  of  these  three  chil- 
dren, had  for  some  years  been  in  the  habit  of  making  a  little 
excursion  or  giving  them  a  picnic  on  Mrs.  Wylie's  birthday.  Ever 
since  Bessy  could  remember  the  day  had  been  marked  by  a  pleas- 
ure of  this  kind,  but  this  year  it  was  to  be  something  quite  new  and 
altogether  delightful.  None  of  the  children  had  ever  seen  the 
ocean,  although  they  lived  within  ninety  miles  of  it,  and  this  time 
the  excursion  was  to  be  taken  to  Sea-Girt.  They  were  to  go  by 
a  very  early  train,  and  not  to  leave  the  beach  until  seven  o'clock 
in  the  evening ;  so  there  would  be  the  whole  delightfully  long  day 
by  the  sea,  besides  the  charming  novelty  of  coming  home  in  an 
evening  train. 

You  may  think  it  strange  that  Bessy  felt  any  doubt  about  being 
ready  for  such  a  day  as  this,  but  you  would  not  if  you  knew  what 
a  bad  habit  she  had  of  putting  everything  off.  Papa  called  her  his 
"minute-man,"  because  her  invariable  answer,  no  matter  what  she 


"IN   A    MINUTE.-  57 


was  told  or  asked  to  do,  was  "In  a  minute."  And  sometimes  the 
minutes  would  be  multiplied  by  ten,  and  sometimes  by  twenty,  or 
even  by  thirty  or  forty. 

Mrs.  Wylie  recommended  everybody  to  go  to  bed  early  the  night 
before  the  excursion.  The  train  was  to  leave  at  half-past  six,  so 
breakfast  must  be  at  six.  Then  there  were  the  lunch-baskets  to  be 
packed,  and  although  everything  that  could  be  was  ready  over- 
night, some  of  the  preparation  must,  of  course,  be  left  until  morn- 
ing. Ruth  and  Bessy  slept  in  the  same  room,  their  two  pretty  lit- 
tle bedsteads  standing  in  opposite  corners,  and  there  were  so  much 
to  talk  about  while  they  were  undressing  that  when  Mrs.  Wylie 
looked  in,  on  her  way  to  her  room  at  nine  o'clock,  they  were  still 
sitting  on  the  floor,  gradually  taking  off  their  shoes  and  stockings. 
But  there  was  time  yet  for  eight  hours'  good  sleep,  and  they  hur- 
ried into  bed,  after  repeated  requests  to  their  mother  to  call  them 
not  a  minute  later  than  five. 

They  felt  as  if  they  had  said  this  about  five  minutes  ago  when 
they  were  waked  by  Rob's  pounding  on  the  door. 

"  Mamma  says  it's  five  o'clock,  girls,"  he  shouted.  "  She  wouldn't 
let  me  knock  you  up  before,  but  I've  been  dressed  for  half  an  hour, 
and  I'm  going  to  the  baker's  for  the  rolls  right  away.  Get  up,  get 
up,  you  lazy  little  things  !" 

Ruth  was  out  of  bed  in  a  minute,  and  before  her  eyes  were  fairly 
open  dressing  and  chattering  all  at  once.  "  Oh,  Bess,"  she  said, 
"  do  you  think  there'll  be  donkeys  ?     I've  been  dreaming  about  it 


58 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


all.  I  saw  them  just  as  plain  as  plain,  and  the  ocean  too,  and  I'll 
be  so  disappointed  if  there  are  none,  and  if  it  doesn't  look  like  I 
dreamed  it!" 

Bessy  turned  over   with   her   customary  morning   groan.      "  Oh 


THE  DONKEYS  OF  RUTH'S   DREAM. 

dear  !"  she  yawned  ;  "  I  don't  hardly  think  I've  been  asleep  at  all. 
Rob  must  be  mistaken  ;  it  can't  be  five  o'clock  yet." 

"  Oh  yes  it  can,"  answered  Ruth  briskly,  "or  Rob  wouldn't  have 
said  so.  Come,  Bess  :  just  think  how  dreadful  it  would  be  if  you 
were  to  be  too  late  !" 

"  It  won't  take  me  a  whole  hour  to  dress,"  said  Bessy,  still  more 
drowsily  ;   "  I'll  get  up  in  a  minute." 


•IN   A    MINUTE."  59 


"  But  you  know  we  were  to  help  mamma,"  said  Ruth  reproach- 
fully. "  Oh,  do  get  up,  Bessy  !  I'll  not  pinch  you,  but  I'll  just  tickle 
you  a  little ;"  and  Ruth  stopped  dressing  long  enough  to  give 
Bessy  a  vigorous  tickle.  But  Bessy  only  smiled  lazily,  and  did 
not  even  open  her   eyes. 

By  the  time  Ruth  was  nearly  dressed  Rob  was  pounding  on  the 
door  again. 

"  It's  half-after,"  he  called,  "  and  I've  pfot  the  rolls — three  dozen 
of  'em,  magnificent  big  fellows.  Come  ;  you're  dreadfully  slow 
this  morning." 

"  Oh,  Rob,"  said  Ruth  anxiously,  "  I  can't  make  Bess  get  up. 
What  shall  I  do?" 

"  You  let  me  in  there  for  a  minute  and  /'//  start  her." 

"  Very  well,"  answered  Ruth,  opening  the  door  ;  "  but  what  will 
you  do  ?" 

"  Sprinkle  her,"  said  Rob ;  whereat,  with  a  dismal  howl,  Bessy 
buried  her  head  under  the  bed-clothes,  and  no  persuasions  from 
Ruth  or  Rob  could  bring  it  out  again,  but  a  smothered  voice  said 
angrily,  "It's  too  soon  to  get  up  ;  just  let  me  alone.  I  won't  get 
up  while  you  plague  me   so." 

At  that  moment  Mrs.  Wylie  was  heard  calling  from  the  foot  of 
the  stairs,  "  Come,  children,  breakfast's  ready  ;  come  at  once,  or 
you'll  be  late." 

Ruth  and  Rob  gave  Bessy  a  parting  shake  and  hurried  down 
stairs. 


6o 


HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


"Why,  where's  Bessy?"  asked  Mrs.  Wylie  as  they  sat  down  to 
breakfast. 

"We've  done  everything  we  could,  mamma,"  said  Rob:  "we've 
shaken  and  talked  to  her,  but  she  won't  budge." 

Mrs.  Wylie  looked  worried.  "  I  would  have  come  to  call  her 
myself,"  she  said,  "but  I  thought  I  heard  you  all  talking  and  laugh- 
ing together,  and  made  my  mind  quite  easy ;  and  if  I  stop  to  wake 
her  and  help  her  get  ready  now,  we  shall  all  be  left,  for  there  is 
no  time  to  spare." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Bessy  was  waked  from  a  delicious  nap  by 
the  closing  of  the  front  door.     Scarcely  knowing  what  she  did,  she 

sprang  out  of  bed  with 
a  little  cry,  and,  still  half 
asleep,  put  on  her  white 
frock,  tied  her  sash,  as  she 
always  did,  in  front,  and 
then  "  worked  "  it  round 
into  place.  This  fully 
waked  her,  and  she  real- 
ized that  the  people  walk- 
ing quickly  toward  the 
station,  armed  with  bas- 
-  bessy  sat  forlornly  on  the  bed."  kets  and  umbrellas,  were 

her  mother  and  father  and   Ruth  and  Rob.     And  when  the  kind- 
hearted    Irish  girl  who  was  Mrs.  Wylie's    only  servant   came  up 


'SHE  SEATED  ONE  OF  THE   DOLLS  ON   HER   LAP' 


See  Page  63. 


'IN   A    MINUTE."  63 


a  few  minutes  later  to  see  about  the  little  girl,  as  Mrs.  Wylie 
had  charged  her  to  do,  she  found  Bessy  sitting  forlornly  on  the 
bed,  her  night-cap  still  on  her  curly  head,  and  her  bare  feet  stick- 
ing out  from  her  clean  white  dress. 

"  Come,  dear,  and  get  your  breakfast,"  said  Katty  soothingly. 
"They  left  you  the  full  of  a  basket  of  all  the  fine  things  they 
had,  and  your  mamma  said  I  might  picnic  you  out  under  the 
big  tree." 

At  first  Bessy  felt  as  if  she  should  never  eat  anything  more  in 
her  whole  life,  but  when  she  had  taken  her  bath,  and  Katty  had 
helped  her  to  dress,  and  she  found  the  little  table  temptingly  spread 
under  the  walnut  tree,  she  changed  her  mind  and  made  a  very  good 
breakfast,  with  her  doll  and  Ruth's  perched  up  in  two  chairs  for 
company.  But  they  were  very  silent  company,  and  during  the 
long  day  that  followed  she  did  some  of  the  best  thinking  she  had 
ever  done  in  her  little  life.  For  the  day  seemed  as  if  it  would 
never  come  to  an  end.  She  lingered  as  long  as  she  could  over  her 
breakfast.  Then  she  took  a  new  story-book,  which  Ruth  and  she 
had  been  reading  together,  and,  seating  one  of  the  dolls  on  her 
lap,  offered  amiably  to  read  aloud  to  her.  But  the  doll's  stupid 
stare  and  blank  silence  were  too  painfully  in  contrast  with  Ruth's 
animated  face  and  merry  comments  on  the  story,  so  she  soon  gave 
it  up,  and  wandered  out  of  doors  again.  And  now  she  saw  clearly, 
for  the  first  time,  how  much  unhappiness  she  was  giving  as  well  as 
taking.     She  had  never  before  acknowledged,  even  to  herself,  that 


64  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

most  of  the  "  unpleasantness  "  about  the  house  was  owing  to  her : 
she  always  thought,  if  she  did  not  say,  that  some  one  else  was  to 
blame,  and  she  had  spoken  of  her  bad  habit  as  if  it  were  a  lame 
leg  or  a  broken  arm — something  for  which  she  was  to  be  pitied 
rather  than  blamed.  And  she  certainly  was  to  be  pitied,  but  not 
exactly  in  the  manner  which  she  required.  She  had  more  than 
many  children  have  to  make  her  happy  and  comfortable,  but  she 
succeeded  in  making  herself — and,  what  was  worse,  a  number  of 
other  people — anything  but  comfortable  the  greater  part  of  the 
time ;  for  somebody  who  is  never  ready,  and  never  does  her  share 
of  the  lifting  and  pulling  until  she  is  absolutely  obliged  to,  even  if 
she  is  a  very  small  somebody,  can  spoil  a  good  many  things.  She 
made  a  very  earnest  and  prayerful  resolve  to  fight  this  dragon  of 
slothfulness ;  and-by  way  of  a  good  beginning  she  offered  to  set 
the  table  for  the  late  supper,  so  that,  when  the  picnic-party  came 
home,  sunburnt  and  tired  and  hungry,  it  did  not  find  Bessy  fretful 
and  injured,  but  very  gentle  and  penitent  and  humble. 

She  is  having  a  hard  fight  with  her  dragon,  but  it  helps  her 
greatly  to  think  that  the  great  apostle  who  charges  us  to  be  "  fer- 
vent in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord,"  thought  it  worth  while  also  to 
charge  us  to  be  "  not  slothful  in  business." 


THE   TRAVELS   OF   A   CHRISTMAS   TREE. 


T  was  Christmas  Eve,  and  from 
sweet-toned  bells  in  many  parts 
of  the  great  city  came  joyful  notes, 
now  chiming-  out  a  tune,  now  ringr- 
ing  peals  and  catches,  until  the 
frosty-looking  stars  seemed  twink- 
mt  ling  back  the  sounds  to  the  glisten- 
p§  ing,  newly-fallen  snow.  Windows 
full  of  wonderful  things,  which  Santa 
Claus  had  not  yet  had  time  to  collect,  glittered  and  shone  in  the 
gaslight,  the  tinkle  of  sleigh-bells  was  everywhere,  and  there  was 
such  a  joyous  stir  and  bustle  among  the  people  crowding  the 
streets  that  it  was  hard  to  realize  that  underneath  it  all  there  were 
want  and  sadness  in  many  hearts  and  homes. 

The  windows  drew  about  them  eager  faces  which  were  so  small 
that  one  knew  they  must  be  children's  faces,  but  which  were  old  in 
sorrow  or  sin,  or  both.  But  amonsj  them  were  some  still  fresh  and 
cheerful  and  pleasant.  Before  the  brilliant  show  in  the  window  of 
a  great  toyshop  stood  a  tall,  slender  young  girl,  whose  honest  face 
wore  a  steady,  settled  look,  as  if  she  had  had  more  responsibility  than 
usually  falls  to  one  so  young.     On  her  arm  she  held  a  rosy-cheeked 


65 


66  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


baby  boy  some  two  or  three  years  old,  and  a  little  girl  of  five  or 
six  was  holding  her  skirt. 

They  had  been  "  choosing,"  without  the  least  regard  to  the  prob- 
able cost,  until  nearly  everything  in  the  window  was  chosen  ;  then, 
with  a  little  laugh  that  ended  in  a  sigh,  the  older  sister  turned 
away,  saying,  "  Come,  Polly ;  if  we  choose  so  much,  Santa  Claus 
won't  bring  anything.  Dick  is  half  asleep  now,  and  you  know  I 
have  the  meat  to  buy  yet,  and  the  medicine  for  mother." 

"  Oh,  but,  Rena,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  I  haven't  finished.  I  choose 
that  picture  for  mother,  and  that  great  big  jumping-jack  for  Dick, 
and  that  workbox   for  you,  and — " 

"  Come,  leave  the  poor  shopman  a  little,"  said  Rena  gayly.  "  I 
am  very  much  obliged  for  my  workbox,  and  I  will  mend  all  your 
clothes  out  of  it ;  but  Dick  is  sleepy,  and  is  growing  heavier  every 
minute,  and  mother  is  all  alone,  you  know,  and  she  will  want  her 
tea." 

"  Do  you  think  we  are  going  to  have  money  enough  for  just  a 
little,  little  tree?"  asked  Polly  earnestly.  "See,  there's  the  poor 
old  man  who  has  been  trying  to  sell  them  all  day.  His  nose  looks 
quite  frozen,  and  he  has  tied  his  handkerchief  over  his  ears.  Let's 
ask  him  how  much  it  is  for  the  very  smallest  one." 

"  We  must  wait  till  the  other  things  are  bought,  dear,"  answered 
Rena.  "  Here  we  are  at  the  butcher's,  and  the  drug-store  is  just 
across  the  way ;  we  will  soon  know." 

When  the  joint  of  meat  for  the  Christmas  dinner  and  the  bottle 


'  RE.VA   ONCE    MORE   COUNTED    THE 


THE     TRAVELS    OF   A     CHRISTMAS    TREE.  69 

of  medicine  for  the  sick  mother  were  paid  for,  there  were  just  ten 
cents  left. 

"I'm  afraid  we  can't  get  even  a  little  tree  for  that,"  said  Rena  as 
they  came  to  the  corner  where  the  old  man  still  stood  rubbing  his 
benumbed  hands  together  in  a  vain  effort  to  warm  them,  "  but  I'll 
ask  him. — Have  you  any  smaller  trees  in   the  wagon,  sir?" 

"  Now,  what  would  anybody  want  with  a  smaller  tree  than  that?" 
said  the  old  man,  rather  crossly.  He  was  very  cold,  and  he  had  not 
sold  as  many  trees  as  he  had  hoped  to,  and  he  was  wishing  himself 
beside  the  fire  at  home. 

"  It  was  only  because  of  the  price,"  replied  Rena,  humbly.  "  I 
haven't  much  money  left,  and  I  was  afraid  this  little  tree,  with  the 
cross-piece  to  make  it  stand,  might  cost  more  than  I  had,  so  I 
thought  perhaps  you  had  some  in   the  wagon  without  it." 

"  And  so  I  have,  my  dear,"  said  the  old  man  in  a  much  pleasanter 
tone,  "  but  I'm  afraid  I  shall  not  sell  even  these  to-night,  and  I'd 
sooner  give  you  the  one  with  the  stand  for  the  price  of  one  with- 
out it  than  unload  any  more.  You  can  have  that  smallest  one 
for  fifteen  cents;  and  sure  that's  cheap  enough." 

Rena  with  a  very  grave  face  once  more  counted  the  money  in 
her  hand,  but  no  counting  could  make  it  more  than  ten  cents. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  it  is  cheap,"  she  answered  sadly,  "but  I've 
only  ten  cents  left." 

"You  might  run  home  and  bring  the  other  five,"  suggested  the 
old  man  ;   "  I'll  wait  for  you   here." 


"JO  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


"Thank  you,  that  is  very  kind,"  replied  Rena,  "but  this  is  all 
we  can  spare.  I'm  sorry,  for  we've  always  had  a  tree  before. 
Good-night,  sir,  and  a  happy  Christmas  to  you  !"  and  Rena  stooped 
to  lift  the  basket  from  the  shelter  of  the  little  trees. 

"  Wait  a  minute,  my  dear,  and  don't  be  so  hasty,"  said  the  old 
man.  "  There's  a  saying  that  '  A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in 
the  bush.'  Very  likely  I'll  sell  no  more  trees  to-night,  and  then  all 
to-morrow  I'll  be  thinking  that  I  might  have  made  ten  cents  more ; 
so  take  it  along :  it's  so  small  that  the  little  one  there  can  easily 
carry  it." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  very  much,"  said  Rena  joyfully. — "  Here,  Polly, 
hold  it  in  your  arms,  so. — I  hope  you'll  have  a  happy  Christmas 
sir;  good-night." 

"  Happy  Christmas,  sir — good-night,"  echoed  Polly. 

"The  same  to  you,  my  dears,  and  here's  an  end  of  the  tied 
greens  to  go  over  your  looking-glass  ;"  and  the  old  man  hung  a 
pretty  green  coil  round  Polly's  neck. 

With  fresh  thanks  and  good  wishes  Rena  and  Polly  started 
briskly  for  home ;  and  the  invalid  mother's  face  brightened  at 
sight  of  the  cheerful  green  things  and  on  hearing  about  the  old 
man's  kindness. 

"  He  put  something  in  my  coat-pocket  when  he  hung  the  wreath 
round  my  neck,"  said  Polly,  pulling  off  her  mittens  to  search  out 
the  mystery. — "Why,  Rena,  it's  the  ten  cents!  Oh,  the  dear,  kind 
old  gentleman  !     Now  we  can  have  five  little  candles  for  the  tree. 


THE     TRAVELS    OF    A     CHRISTMAS     TREE.  7 1 

Please  go  quickly,  Rena,  and  buy  them,  and  we'll  have  it  all  lighted 
when  father  comes  home." 

Rena  went  very  willingly,  having  first  unwrapped  the  sleepy 
baby  and  laid  him  beside  his  mother  on  the  bed  ;  and  by  the  time 
the  tired  father,  discouraged  with  one  more  fruitless  search  for 
work,  came  slowly  up  the  stairs,  the  little  tree's  five  candles  were 
burning  cheerily.  Rena  and  Polly  told  him  all  about  it  as  they  flew 
around  setting  the  table  and  dishing  the  hot  mush  for  supper,  and 
he  quite  agreed  with  them  about  the  kindness  of  the  gift.  He 
hung  the  wreath  over  the  door  before  they  sat  down  to  supper, 
and  the  candles  were  carefully  blown  out,  that  they  might  last  for 
another  lighting.  Rena,  with  a  significant  look  at  her  father  and 
Polly,  poured  a  few  spoonfuls  of  milk  over  the  plate  of  mush  which 
she  carried  to  her  mother ;  the  rest  of  them  ate  it  with  no  sauce 
but  that  of  a  good,  hearty  appetite. 

"  That  isn't  bad  after  the  tramp  I've  had  to-day,"  said  the  father, 
helping  himself  to  another  plateful. 

"And  no  work  yet,  father?"  asked  Rena. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  he  answered  sadly.  "  They  read  Mr.  Hutton's 
letter  in  several  places,  and  were  very  civil  and  very  sorry,  but  had 
nothing  for  me  to  do.  But  we'll  try  not  to  fret  Christmas  away. 
It's  been  running  in  my  mind  all  day,  'Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  be 
doing  good;  dwell  in  the  land,  and  verily  thou  shalt  be  fed.'  It 
goes  against  me  to  use  your  little  savings,  daughter,  but  with  those 
and  your  wages  we  can  pull  through  for  two  or  three  weeks  more  ; 


72  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


and  surely  by  that  time  a  man  who  is  willing  to  do  anything  honest 
can  find  something  to  do." 

"  Of  course  he  can,"  said  the  mother's  weak  voice,  cheerfully ; 
"and  you  haven't  counted  me.  You'll  see  when  you  eat  your 
dinner  to-morrow,  and  when  the  little  tree  blazes  up  again,  that  I 
didn't  learn  to  crochet  for  nothing." 

"  Bless  your  dear  heart!  there's  no  putting  you  down;"  and  her 
husband  left  the  table  to  give  her  a  hearty  kiss. 

"Is  there  any  mush  left,  Rena?"  asked  the  mother. 

"Yes,  mother,"  answered  Rena,  scraping  it  into  a  bowl;  "I  can 
take  a  little  of  the  beef-fat  and  fry  it  for  breakfast." 

"  I  know  something  better  than  that  to  do  with  it,"  said  the 
father.  "  I  don't  believe  that  poor  little  soul  on  the  floor  above 
has  tasted  anything  hot  to-day ;  it's  all  her  mother  can  do  to  get 
bread  for  them  and  keep  a  little  fire. — Run  up  with  what's  left, 
Polly,  and  tell  her  to  eat  it  while  it's  hot ;  folks  who  are  going  to 
have  such  a  dinner  as  your  mother's  hinting  at  can  afford  to  eat 
bread  for  breakfast." 

Polly  skipped  up  stairs  with  the  bowl  of  mush,  and  was  gone  ten 
or  fifteen  minutes.  When  she  came  back  with  the  empty  bowl  she 
was  half  crying.  "  It's  all  dark  but  what  comes  in  from  the  street," 
she  said,  "and  Jeanie  is  all  by  herself.  Her  mother  had  to  go 
away  off  with  some  work,  and  she  says  they've  only  bread  for 
dinner  to-morrow,  and  that  if  they  buy  any  candles  they  won't 
have  that;  and  I  don't  see  why  they  can't  light  the  gas." 


THE     TRAVELS    OF   A     CHRISTMAS    TREE.  73 

"  I  suppose  because  they  can't  pay  for  it,  dear,"  said  the  mother. 
"  Did  Jeanie  like  the  mush  ?" 

"  She  said  it  was  too  good  for  anything,"  answered  Polly  glee- 
fully, her  little  face  changing  suddenly  from  tears  to  smiles,  "  and 
she  kept  half  of  it  for  her  mother.  Oh,  suppose  we  give  her  the 
tree?" 

"  You  shall  if  you  like,  darling,  and  if  Rena  is  willing,"  said  the 
mother.  "  Dick  is  too  little  to  be  consulted,  even  if  he  were 
awake." 

"Of  course  I'm  willing,"  said  Rena  brightly.  "The  little  tree 
has  shone  for  us,  and  now  it  can  go  and  shine  for  Jeanie. — We'll 
light  it  again,   Polly,  and  carry  it  up  so." 

When  Jeanie's  tired  mother  came  home  with  the  little  sum  for 
which  she  had  walked  so  far,  and  which  must  be  spread  out  over 
a  whole  week,  she  heard  singing ;  two  thin  little  voices  were  piping 
out — 

"  Carol,  carol,  Christians, 

Carol  joyfully ; 
Carol  for  the  coming 

Of  Christ's  nativity. 
Carol !  ca-rol !" 

And  when  she  opened  the  door,  instead  of  finding  a  dark  room 
and  a  lonely  little  daughter,  she  found  two  carollers,  and  the  little 
tree  shining  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  with  one  white,  one  red,  one 
yellow,  one  blue,  and  one  green  candle  interspersed  among  its 
spreading  branches. 


74  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


Polly  said  good-night  and  ran  down  stairs,  and  Jeanie's  mother 
drew  from  under  her  shawl  a  whole  pound  of  candles. 

"  Oh,  where  did  you  get  them  ?  I'm  so  glad  !"  cried  Jeanie  joy- 
fully ;  "I  hate  to  sit  in  the  dark." 

"  Mr.  Chipman  gave  them  to  me  when  I  paid  his  bill,"  answered 
Jeanie's  mother.  "  He's  the  best  man  alive,  I  do  believe,  and  I 
suppose  he's  noticed  that  I  haven't  bought  any  lately.  Now  we 
can  light  one  and  save  your  tree  for  another  night.  I  don't  know 
yet  where  you  got  it." 

So  Jeanie  told  about  the  mush  and  Polly  and  the  tree,  and  the 
poor  widow's  heart  grew  warm  as  she  listened  :  times  were  hard, 
and  keeping  alive  was  a  struggle,  but  the  feeling  of  loneliness 
which  had  oppressed  her  all  day  was  gone. 

"  If  I  were  a  rich  woman,"  she  said  as  she  lighted  the  one  candle 
and  put  out  the  five,  "  the  person  I'd  see  to  first  would  be  that  little 
lame  child  across  the  entry.  I  caught  sight  of  her  face  as  I  came 
in,  and  I  can't  get  it  out  of  my  head ;  she'll  not  live  long  if  they 
can't  feed  her  a  little  better." 

"  Do  you  believe  they've  any  Christmas  over  there  ?"  asked 
Jeanie  with  a  quick  glance  at  the  tree. 

"No,  indeed,  poor  souls!"  said  her  mother.  "They'll  be  thank- 
ful for  one  meal  to-morrow,  let  alone  three,  and  I  don't  believe 
they've  had  more  than  one   to-day." 

"Then  I  know  what  I'm  going  to  do."  Jeanie  spoke  quickly,  as 
if  she  did  not  wish  to   think.     "  I'm  going  to  light  my  tree  again 


"HAPPY    LITTLE  CHILDREN   WOKE   TO  SEARCH   THEIR   STOCKINGS." 


Set-  Page  ;3 


THE     TRAVELS    OF    A     CHRISTMAS    TREE.  77 

and  give  it  to  her.  Polly  won't  care — she's  too  good — and  I  can 
always  see  it  if  I  shut  my  eyes."  And,  springing  up,  she  relit  the 
five  little  candles,  now  burnt  half  away,  and  slowly  and  carefully 
carried  the  tree  across  the  entry. 

The  pale  little  cripple  started  up  with  a  rapturous  "  Oh  !"  at  sight 
of  the  tree,  and  when  Jeanie  explained  that  she  was  to  keep  it,  and 
that  it  would  be  pretty  and  green  for  days  after  the  candles  were 
burnt  away,  the  wan  face  was  lifted  for  a  kiss,  and  then  the  child 
lay  with  folded  hands,  gazing  at  the  tree.  "  It  smells  like  the  woods 
we  went  to  once,"  she  murmured. — "Oh,  mammy,  look!  don't  you 
care  ?" 

The  sullen,  hard-looking  woman  raised  her  head,  and  her  face 
softened,  "Yes,  my  dear,  it's  rarely  pretty,"  she  said,  more  kindly 
than  she  had  spoken  for  days  ;  and  Jeanie,  well  satisfied,,  stole  out 
of  the  room. 

"Will  you  put  it  out  now,  mother,  so  that  it  may  burn  a  little 
to-morrow  night  ?"  asked  the  child. 

As  her  mother  rose  to  do  it  a  woman  who'  lived  in  one  of  the 
lower  rooms  came  in  without  the  ceremony  of  knocking.  "  Poor 
old  granny's  going  fast,"  she  said,  "  and  I  came  to  see  if  you'd  that 
prayer-book  that  used  to  be  on  the  table.  She's  begging  of  us  to> 
pray  with  her,  and  she  seems  so  distressed  I  thought  I'd  try  to*  read: 
her  a  prayer,  even  if  they  made  game  of  me  for  it.  She's  wander- 
ing like,  and  keeps  saying  bits  of  hymns  about  Christmas,  and 
talking   to   her  children,   poor  soul  !   and   they   all   dead   and  gone 


78  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


years  ago  I  She's  said  a  dozen  times,  '  Light  the  tree,  father,  and 
then  call  them  in.'  " 

The  little  cripple  rose  on  her  bed.  "  Oh,  Mrs.  Keely,"  she  said 
eagerly,  "  carry  her  down  my  tree.  She'll  think  it's  her  children's. 
Do,  please." 

"You  poor  little  soul!"  said  the  kind-hearted  woman  ;  "it's  the 
only  sign  of  Christmas  you've  got  or  are  likely  to  get ;  you'd 
better  keep  it." 

"  Indeed,  I'd  rather  she'd  have  it,  please,"  she  said,  so  earnestly 
that  Mrs.  Keely  yielded,  and  the  wistful  eyes  followed  the  tree  out 
of  the  door  and  along  the  entry  until  the  stairs  swallowed  it  up. 
The  mother  had  silently  handed  Mrs.  Keely  the  prayer-book. 

The  dying  eyes  grew  strangely  bright  as  the  little  tree  twinkled 
before  them,  and  the  feeble  voice  murmured, 

"  '  In  the  silent  midnight 
Centuries  ago.'1  " 

That  was  all. 

"She's  with  the  children  now,  poor  dear!"  said  Mrs.  Keely 
softly,  "  and  I'll  take  the  tree  back  to  the  poor  little  girl ;  it'll  com- 
fort her,  maybe,  and  it  can't  do  granny  any  more  good." 

Christmas  Day  dawned  brightly,  and  the  happy  little  children  in 
warm,  comfortable  homes  woke  to  search  their  well -filled  stockings 
and  to  rejoice  over  the  many  gifts  prepared  by  loving  hearts  and 
hands.  But  to  those  of  whom  I  have  been  telling  you  no  more  of 
the  outward  part  of  Christmas  came  than  the  small  share  which  had 


THE     TRAVELS    OF   A     CHRISTMAS    TREE. 


79 


come  on  Christmas  Eve.     Yet  they  were  not  unhappy ;  the  Christ- 
mas love  and  warmth  were  in  their  hearts ;  and 

"The  heart  aye's  the  part  aye 
That  sets  us  right   or  wrong." 

Perhaps   the   happiest   of  them  all   was   the   little   cripple,  whose 
tree,  standing  in  the  one  window  of  the  room,  wafted  its  wild-wood 


•ONE  OF  THE   LADIES  OF  THE  FLOWER   MISSION   BROUGHT  HER   A   BUNCH   OF  ROSES.' 


fragrance  to  the  child,  until,  shutting  her  eyes,  she  "  made  believe  " 
she  was  in  the  woods  once  more.     Day  after  day  the  sun  made 


8o 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


shadows  of  her  tree  for  her  on  the  floor  of  her  room — beautiful 
out-of-doors  shadows.  The  worn,  hard  face  of  the  despairing 
mother  grew  softer,  her  voice  gentler,  as  she  sat  at  her  ceaseless 
work  in  the  shadow  of  the  Christmas  tree. 

Not  until  one  of  the  kind  ladies  of  the  Flower  Mission  brought 
the  little  cripple  a  bunch  of  glowing  roses  did  she  give  up  the 
dingy  and  yellow  pine-bough  which  had  been  such  a  delight  to 
her ;  and  then,  not  willing  that  it  should  be  thrown  into  the  muddy 
street,  she  begged  her  mother  to  burn  it. 

Dear  little  hearts,  when  Christmas  comes  again  is  there  nothing 
you  can  do  to  send  into  cheerless  homes  a  share  of  the  Christmas 


joy 


HOME   WITH   THE   TIDE. 


^i  A  LL  night  the  storm  had  beaten 


Like  thunder  on  the  rock, 
EL)  And  the  mother's  heart  had  trembled 
And  sunk  with  every  shock  ; 
g^  •£"■     And  closer  she  held  her  baby, 
Whispering,  "Ah,  by  dawn 
Thou  may'st  be  an  orphan,  little  one — 
Thy  father  may  be  gone." 

The  storm  died  into  silence 

As  daylight  slowly  broke, 
And  with  laughter  and  with  crooning 

The  little  baby  woke. 
The  mother,  worn  with  watching, 

Gathered  him  on  her  arm  : 
"  We  will  go  to  the  beach,  my  baby,  and  see 

If  the  storm  has  wrought  us  harm." 

She  sat  on  a  rock  and  waited, 

But  she  looked  not  toward  the  sea  ; 
She  only  asked  the  fishers, 

"  Have  you  any  news  for  me  ?" 

si 


82 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


And  she  watched  old  Ailie  gathering 
Moss  from  the  rocks  below. 
"  Her  man  was  drowned,"  the  young  wife  thought, 
"And  her  two  lads,  long  ago." 


"SHE  SAT  ON  A   ROCK  AND   WAITED.' 


But  a  merry  shout  from  the  fishers 
Raised  the  sad  eyes  suddenly; 

A  little  boat  rode  gayly 
Over  the  tossing  sea. 


HOME     WITH    THE    TIDE. 


Fast  as  the  wind  could  brine  her 
She  came  with  her  sail  spread  wide. 
"  Oh,  baby  !  father  is  coming!" 
The  happy  mother  cried  ; 

And  she  held  her  baby  up  to  look — 
"  He's  coming  home  with  the  tide." 


COURAGE. 


OERHAPS  there  are  about  six  boys  in  all  Christen- 
dom who  are  really  glad  when  holidays  are  over 
and  school  begins  again,  but  the  boys  who  be- 
longed to  Mr.  Brainard's  school  were  a  good 
deal  less  sorry  than  most  schoolboys  are. 
There  were  only  about  twelve  of  them,  and 
Mrs.  Brainard  knew  each  one,  and  mothered 
all ;  and  it  must  be  a  very  lazy  and  unambitious 
boy  who  was  not  roused  to  interest  in  his 
studies  by  Mr.  Brainard. 
The  summer  vacation  of  the  school  was  Over,  most  of  the 
boys  had  returned,  and  Jack  Lyman,  who  was  among  the  older 
ones,  had  just  driven  up  to  the  door  in  Mr.  Brainard's  light  wagon 
with  a  small  boy  and  a  large  trunk.  Jack  liked  driving,  and  was 
often  trusted  with  the  steady  old  horse  which  Mr.  Brainard  kept 
chiefly  for  journeys  to  and  from  the  station.  Mrs.  Brainard  came 
out  to  welcome  the  new-comer,  while  some  of  the  smaller  boys 
gathered  round.  The  little  fellow  was  so  slender,  and  his  face  was 
so  small  and  thin,  that  Mrs.  Brainard's  motherly  heart  was  touched 
with  pity  for  him. 


COURAGE. 


35 


"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  dear,"  she  said,  taking  his  hand  with  a 
warm  clasp  in  both  her  own. — "  Boys,  this  is  Everard  Phillips ;  he 
is  the  only  'new  boy'  this  term,  and  you   must  all  do  the  honors 


Lmlfl     '&& 


"MRS.    BRAINARD  CAME  OUT  TO  WELCOME  THE  NEW-COMER." 

of  the  school.     Remember  how  strange  it  seemed  to  you  at  first, 
and  try  to  make  the  new  member  of  our  family  feel  at  home." 

"It  didn't  seem  strange  to  me  long  after  I  saw  you,  Mrs.   Brain- 
ard,"  said  Jack  Lyman  with  his  pleasant  smile,  "and  I  don't  believe 


86  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


it  will  to  him  ;  it  sha'n't  if  we  can  help  it;"  and  he  put  his  hand 
kindly  on  the  little  fellow's  shoulder." 

Mrs.  Brainard  smiled  brightly  in  return.  "  Thank  you,  Jack," 
she  said;  and  then,  turning  toward  the  two  smallest  boys,  one  of 
whom  was  hiding  behind  her  and  peeping  at  the  new-comer,  she 
introduced  them  to  him,  saying  with  a  loving  smile,  "These  are 
my  own  two  little  sons,  Alan  and  Rob ;  and  now  we  will  go  in  and 
you  shall  be  introduced  to  their  small  sister,  of  whom  we  are  all 
very  proud,  for  she  is  the  only  girl  among  a  baker's  dozen  of 
boys." 

"  He  looks  like  a  girl  in  boy's  clothes,"  said  Ned  Lane  contempt- 
uously as  soon  as  Mrs.  Brainard  and  the  new  boy  were  out  of 
hearing.  "  I  wonder  if  he  does  his  hair  himself  or  if  he's  to  have 
a  maid  ?"  • 

"  Oh,  come,  now,  Lane,"  said  Jack  good-naturedly  ;  "  we  can't  all 
be  as  powerful  as  you  are,  and  I  hope  you  won't  chaff  him  :  his 
mother  died  a  month  or  two  ago,  and  he's  just  been  very  ill,  but 
he'll  soon  pick  up  here ;  and  I  dare  say  Mrs.  Brainard  will  have 
his  hair  cut." 

"  I'll  not  hurt  him,"  said  Ned  with  a  grin  which  did  not  quite 
agree  with  his  words,  "  but  a  little  bracing  up  will  be  good  for 
him." 

Master  Ned's  ideas  of  "  bracing  up"  were  peculiar,  and  the  new 
boy  was  soon  the  object  of  as  many  small  annoyances  as  Ned  felt 
it  safe  to  offer  him.     On  learning  his  name,  Ned  persisted  in  call- 


COURAGE. 


87 


ing  him  "  Evie  "  and  "  Miss  Phillips,"  and  made  so  many  sarcastic 
allusions  to  his  hair  that  the  little  fellow  soon  asked  and  obtained 
permission  to  have  it  cut  close.     Jack  stood  between   Everard  and 


"A  SUDDEN  GUST  OF  WIND  TOOK  OFF  EVERARD'S   CAP." 

his  tormentor  whenever  he  could,  and  was  pleased  with  the  quiet 
manliness  which  the  little  fellow  showed  ;  he  rarely  answered  Ned's 


88  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


taunts,  and,  but  for  the  quick  flush  which  passed  over  his  face, 
seemed  not  to  mind  them. 

School  was  just  out  one  windy  day  in  March,  and  the  day- 
scholars,  of  whom  there  were  five  or  six,  were  starting  for  their 
homes.  Several  of  the  boarders  went  a  little  way  with  them,  and 
among  these  were  Jack,  Ned,  and  Everard.  The  latter  had  grown 
both  taller  and  stouter,  and  would  scarcely  have  been  recognized 
as  the  pale  and  thin  little  little  fellow  who  had  come  in  the  fall ; 
but  he  was  still  very  quiet  and  reserved,  except  to  Mrs.  Brainard 
and  Jack,  and  cared  more  for  books  than  for  play.  A  sudden  gust 
of  wind  took  off  his  cap,  and  he  tried  in  vain  to  catch  it ;  succes- 
sive puffs  sent  it  flying  along  the  road,  and  finally  into  a  pool  of 
muddy  water.  One  of  the  day-scholars  good-naturedly  helped 
him  to  fish  it  out,  but  it  was  soaked  and  spoiled.  Everard's 
"  Thank  you  "  was  said  with  trembling  lips,  and  the  boys,  to  their 
utter  astonishment,  saw  that  his  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

Ned  gave  a  loud  whoop,  and  then  said,  with  mock  sympathy, 
"And  did  its  little  cap  get  wet?  Never  mind,  we'll  hang  it  up  to 
dry." 

And,  seizing  the  cap  before  Everard  could  prevent  him,  he  was 
about  to  toss  it  into  a  tree  when  Jack  grasped  him  by  the  shoulder, 
saying  sternly,  "  You  drop  that !  Give  it  back  to  him  if  you  know 
what's  good  for  you." 

"You  needn't  grab  me  like  that;  it's  none  of  your  business,  any- 
how," said  Ned  sullenly,  but  at  the  same  time  "  shying  "  the  cap  at 


COURAGE.  89 


Everard  with  such  good  aim  that  it  struck  him  full  in  the  face. 
The  little  fellow  turned  without  a  word  and  ran  home. 

Jack's  grasp  tightened  and  his  lips  were  white  with  his  effort  at 
self-control  as  he  said,  "If  I  catch  you  bullying  that  boy  just  once 
more,  Ned  Lane,  I'll  give  you  the  thrashing  you  ought  to  have  had 
some  time  ago  ;  as  it  is,  I'm  so  strongly  tempted  to  duck  you  that 
I'd  advise  you  to  take  the  temptation  out  of  my  sight  ;"  and  he 
flung  Ned  from  him  rather  forcibly.  Ned  hesitated  a  moment,  and 
then  walked  away  crestfallen.  Jack's  easy  good-nature  had  misled 
him,  at  the  beginning  of  their  acquaintance,  into  presuming  upon 
it,  and  he  had  still  a  wholesome   recollection  of  the  consequences. 

Jack  went  in  search  of  Everard,  whom  he  at  last  found  in  one 
of  the  dormitories  with  his  face  hidden  in  his  pillow. 

"  Oh,  come,  now,"'  said  Jack  cheerfully  ;  "  I  wouldn't  take  that 
pup's  behavior  so  hard  if  I  were  you.  I  think  I've  settled  him  for 
a  while  anyhow,  and,  if  you'll  let  me  say  so,  you  ought  to  try  not  to 
give  way  so  before  him  ;  it  gives  him  a  sort  of  clinch  on  you,  don't 
you  see  ?  And  nobody  will  haul  you  up  about  the  cap ;  Mrs. 
Brainard  never  makes  a  fuss  about  things  of  that  kind." 

"  It's  not  that,"  said  Everard  with  a  quivering  voice.  "  You're 
very  kind,  Jack,  but  you  don't  understand.  Mother  made  me  that 
cap  only  a  month  before — "  He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but 
after  a  few  minutes'  pause  he  said :  "  It  was  the  very  last  thing  she 
made  me.  We  were  away  in  the  country,  and  I  had  spoiled  all  my 
hats  and   caps   somehow,  and   she   took   a  piece   of  cloth   she   had 


90  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


brought  to  embroider  on,  and  made  this  one  all  herself,  without 
even  a  pattern  ;  and  she  was  so  proud  of  it !  I've  been  meaning 
to  put  it  away,  for  fear  something  would  happen  to  it,  but  it  seemed 
to  me  that  while  I  wore  it  I  was  nearer  somehow —  I  can't  explain 
it." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Jack  softly.  "  I  beg  your  pardon  with  all  my 
heart.  And  I  just  want  to  tell  you  something  :  you're  coming  to 
spend  your  summer  vacation  with  me  if  you've  no  plan  you  like 
better  for  it.  Mrs.  Brainard's  a  lovely  woman,  but  the  mother  had 
a  little  baby  that  died  ever  so  long  ago,  before  I  was  born,  and 
she's  been  mothering  everybody  she  ■  could  get  hold  of  ever 
since,  I  do  believe." 

Everard's  cheerfulness  increased  rapidly  after  this  talk,  and  he 
was  never  weary  of  hearing  Jack  tell  about  his  home  and  "  the 
mother." 

The  precious  cap  was  carefully  cleaned  and  dried,  and  then,  by 
Jack's  advice,  locked  safely  away  in  Everard's  bureau  ;  and  Ned, 
who  was  much  more  thoughtless  than  malicious,  and  who  did  not 
wish  to  have  a  quarrel  with  a  boy  so  popular  as  Jack  was,  took 
care  to  let  Everard  alone  when  the  latter  was  present,  knowing 
well  that  Everard  would  not  report  to  him  the  remarks  made  in 
his  absence. 

Mrs.  Brainard's  baby  May  was  the  pet  and  plaything  of  all  the 
boys,  boarders  and  day-scholars  ;  there  were  lively  contentions  for 
the   honor   of   pushing   her    coach    and  giving  her    pickaback  and 


COURAGE.  91 


shoulder  rides ;  and  she  returned  the  general  affection  with  a  per- 
fect trustfulness  in  everybody's  goodwill  which  had  more  influence 
over  the  boys  than  they  themselves  knew.  She  patted  their  heads, 
whenever  she  could  reach  them,  exactly  as  she  caressed  the  large 
black  dog  which  was  nearly  always  with  her,  and,  as  she  had  no 
favorites,  she  had  no  enemies  ;  her  faith  in  dogs  and  boys  had 
never  been  shaken.  Mrs.  Brainard  generally  stayed  within  call 
when  the  small  queen  was  among  her  rough  subjects,  but  one 
afternoon  it  happened  that  Mr.  Brainard  needed  her  help  with 
some  of  his  school-work ;  the  nurse  was  away,  and  she  stood  unde- 
cided what  to  do.  The  day  was  so  bright  and  warm  that  she  dis- 
liked to  bring  the  baby  in-doors,  and  she  knew,  besides,  that  her 
ladyship  would  accept  no  divided  service,  and  that  an  attempt  at 
helping  Mr.  Brainard  with  Baby  May  in  the  room  would  only  suc- 
ceed in  hindering  him.  The  boys  had  been  playing  rather  actively, 
and  were  now  resting  in  the  shade,  and  as  soon  as  they  understood 
her  perplexity  she  had  plenty  of  volunteers. 

"  She'll  be  pulled  to  pieces  if  I  give  her  to  all  of  you  to  take 
care  of,"  said  Mrs.  Brainard,  with  the  loving  smile  which  had 
helped  to  win  her  so  many  hearts ;  "  so  I  must  make  a  special 
appointment  of  three,  as  I  did  the  last  time  I  was  in  distress.  I 
will  take  the  three  nearest  to  the  throne  :  Ned,  Charlie,  Everard, 
you  can  relieve  guard  for  each  other ;  it  will  only  be  for  an  hour, 
and  if  you  want  me  you  will  find  me  in  the  library.  I  don't  know 
where  Lion  is,  or  he  would  help  you." 


0  2  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


Lion,  who  was  the  large  dog  aforesaid,  knew  very  well  where  he 
was  :  somebody  had  thoughtlessly  shut  him  into  one  of  the  reci- 
tation-rooms, which  was  on  the  second  floor,  and  his  mind  was 
divided  between  risking  a  jump  from  the  open  window  and  rais- 
ing a  howl  that  should  also  raise  the  house. 

"  Keep  her  quite  away  from  the  pond,  please,"  Mrs.  Brainard 
turned  to  say  as  she  was  entering  the  house:  "she  has  had  a 
desire  within  the  last  few  days  to  go  '  fissing,'  she  tells  me,  and 
she  is  so  daring  that  I  am  in  constant  terror  about  her." 

The  boys  were  soon  tired  of  doing  nothing,  and  when  one  of 
them  suesfested  that  it  was  cooler  in  the  barn,  and  that  a  rame  of 
"  Follow  my  Leader  "  could  be  played  there  as  well  as  out  of  doors, 
the  rest  started  up  with  alacrity,  with  the  exception  of  the  little 
queen's  body-guard.  Ned  and  Charlie  grumbled  a  little,  but 
Everard,  who  was  deep  in  a  book  of  fairy-stories,  scarcely  heard 
them  until  Charlie  exclaimed,  "I  say,  Everard,  you've  been  read- 
ing ever  since  Mrs.  Brainard  went  in,  and  haven't  taken  your 
share  :  suppose  you  take  it  now,  and  Ned  and  I  will  be  back  in 
half  an  hour  and  let  you  off  to  your  book  again." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Everard,  to  whom  the  arrangement  seemed 
quite  fair;  and  he  rather  reluctantly  closed  the  book. 

Baby  May  had  been  sitting  contentedly  in  her  chariot,  playing 
with  a  strings  of  bright  beads  and  chatterino-  to  the  audience  in 
general,  and  she  was  not  at  all  pleased  when  the  audience  uncere- 
moniously left  her  to  her  own  devices.     She  immediately  asked  to 


LION    WAS    ALREADY    PULLING    FAIiY    MAY    FROM    THE    WATER." 


See  Page  95. 


COURAGE.  95 


be  taken  "  fissing  ;"  and  Everard,  to  keep  her  from  fretting,  fas- 
tened a  bit  of  paper  to  a  string,  and  the  string  to  a  stick,  and 
told  her  to  fish  over  the  side  of  her  carriage.  This  was  some- 
thing entirely  new  and  delightful,  and  she  entered  into  it  with 
spirit,  laughing  gleefully  every  time  she  landed  her  fish. 

"  I'll  just  finish  this  story  :  there's  only  a  little  left,  and  I  must  see 
how  he  got  out  of  the  cavern,"  said  Everard  to  himself  as  he 
opened  his  book  once  more,  answering  the  scruple  which  rose  in 
his  conscience  at  the  idea  of  neglecting  his  trust  in  this  way.  The 
baby's  perfect  contentment  beguiled  him  into  beginning  another 
story,  and  he  was  soon  so  entirely  absorbed  that  he  had  forgotten 
everything  else  ;  and  little  May  might  have  made  much  more  noise 
than  she  did  without  rousing  him  when  she  softly  let  herself  down 
over  the  side  of  her  carriage — an  accomplishment  which  she  had 
very  lately  acquired — and  stole  away  to  the  pond  on  the  other  side 
of  the  house. 

The  child's  shrill  scream  and  an  answering  roar  from  Lion 
roused  him  suddenly  from  his  book,  but  before  he  could  think 
almost  the  great  dog  had  leaped  from  the  window,  gathered  him- 
self up  from  the  grass,  and  rushed  toward  the  pond ;  and  when 
Everard  reached  the  bank  Lion  was  already  pulling  Baby  May 
from  the  water.  Charlie  and  Ned,  true  to  their  promise,  had  been 
returning  to  "  relieve  guard  "  as  the  clog  leaped  from  the  window, 
and  all  three  boys  stood  in  silent  dismay  as  Lion  gently  drew  the 
dripping  baby  up  the  bank. 


9  6  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


Then  Ned  broke  out  angrily,  as  he  gathered  up  the  sobbing 
child  and  started  for  the  house  :  "You've  made  a  fine  mess  of  it! 
Mrs.  Brainard  will  blame  all  three  of  us  alike,  and  say  we're  not 
fit  to  be  trusted,  when  I  suppose  the  fact  is  you  went  on  reading 
as  soon  as  our  backs  were  turned,  and  didn't  care  what  became 
of  the  baby." 

Everard  made  no  answer ;  he  only  hastened  on  to  meet  Mrs. 
Brainard,  who  came  toward  them  pale  and  frightened,  for  she  had 
heard  May's  scream. 

"  Don't  stop  me  with  explanations,"  she  said  as  he  tried  to 
speak;  "give  me  my  baby." 

A  warm  bath  and  a  good  rubbing  saved  the  little  lady  from  any 
ill  effects  of  her  adventure,  and  when  she  was  asleep,  and  it  was 
evident  that  she  had  taken  no  harm,  Mrs.  Brainard  sent  for  the 
three  boys. 

Everard  had  felt  no  hesitation  when  he  had  tried  to  explain  the 
accident  to  her  at  first,  but  the  hour's  delay  had  changed  his  feel- 
ing. He  was  tempted  to  allow  the  other  boys  to  share  the  blame 
— to  say  that  they  should  not  have  left  the  baby  any  more  than  he 
should  have  read — and,  above  all,  not  to  screen  his  enemy.  But 
when  it  came  to  this  the  tide  turned  :  his  mother's  eentle  teaching 
came  back  to  him,  and  he  resolutely  put  down  the  temptation, 
and,  with  a  silent  prayer  for  strength,  spoke  before  any  question 
could  be  asked. 

"  Ned  and  Charlie  are  not  to  blame,  Mrs.  Brainard,"  he  said ;  "  it 


COURAGE.  97 


was  all  my  fault.  I  was  taking  my  turn — they  had  taken  theirs — 
and  I  g;ot  to  reading  when  I  knew  I  shouldn't,  and  I  never  heard 
her  slip  away,  nor  anything,  till  I  heard  her  scream  ;  and  if  she'd 
been  drowned — "     He  stopped,  unable  to  go  on. 

"And  I  felt  so  sure  I  could  trust  you!"  said  Mrs.  Brainard  sor- 
rowfully. "  That  is  the  worst  of  all.  Baby  is  not  hurt,  but  if —  Oh, 
Everard,  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  I  can  trust  you 
acjain." 

"  I  suppose  it  will,"  said  Everard  humbly,  "  but  if  you  can  only 
say  you  forgive  me,  Mrs.  Brainard,  I  can  go  to  work  to  make  you 
willing  to  trust  me  again." 

Nobody  who  asked  in  earnest  ever  asked  twice  for  forgiveness 
here,  and  Mrs.  Brainard's  warm  "  I  do  forgive  you,  dear,"  and  her 
loving  kiss,  gave  Everard  fresh  hope  and  courage. 

When  the  three  boys  were  outside  the  door,  Ned  threw  his  arm 
across  Everard's  shoulder.  "  You've  faced  the  music  like  a  man," 
he  said  ;  "  I  don't  believe  /  could  have  done  it.  I'd  have  thought 
a  third  of  the  blame  quite  as  much  as  I  could  shoulder.  I'm  not 
much  of  a  speech-maker,  but  I  will  say  this  :  I'll  go  to  Jack  and  ask 
him  to  thrash  me,  and  then  throw  me  into  the  pond,  the  next  time 
I  catch  myself  bullying  you." 


n^HE  first  of  June  was  little  Milly  Graham's  birthday,  and  she 
■*  thought  it  the  loveliest  day  of  the  whole  year.  This  was 
partly  because,  in  many  ways,  it  really  was — partly  because,  ever 
since  she  could  remember,  so  many  things  had  been  done  to  make 
her  happy  on  that  day  that  she  must  have  been  a  very  cross- 
grained  little  girl  indeed  if  she  had  not  been  as  happy  as  she 
was  meant  to  be.  She  was  a  little  only  daughter,  and  for  fear  she 
should  feel  lonesome,  with  neither  brother  nor  sisters  for  playmates, 


98 


A     HAPPY    BIRTHDAY. 


99 


her  father  and  mother  had  given  her  as  many  pets  as  one  small 
girl  could  well  attend  to.  First  in  her  affections  among  these  came 
her  two  dogs,  the  big  St.  Bernard,  Prince,  and  the  little  King 
Charles,  Frisk,  and  these 
two  seldom  left  her.  Prince 
evidently  felt  responsible  for 
her,  and  did  not  like  to  have 
her  out  of  his  sight,  and 
Frisk  needed  so  much  pet- 
ting that  he  felt  used  hard- 
ly when  he  was  kept  out  of 
the  schoolroom  every  morn- 
ing until  Milly's  lessons  were 
done.  Then,  besides  the 
dogs,  there  were  always  two 
or  three  cats,  and  there  was 
a  rabbit-hutch  full  of  rab- 
bits, and  another  hutch  full 
of  guinea-pigs  ;  so,  you  see, 
AI illy  had  her  hands  full, 
for  it  was  her  delight  to  feed 
and  care  for  all  these  crea- 
tures herself.  She  allowed 
the  gardener  to  help  her  if  she  needed  help,  as  she  sometimes  did — 
when,  for  instance,  the  rabbits  would  insist  upon  burrowing  out  of 


MILLY,   PRINCE,  AND   FRISK. 


IOO  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


the  hutch,  and  a  fresh  trench  had  to  be  dug  around  the  walls  of 
their  castle  and  filled  with  coal-ashes;  and  she  always  consulted 
him  and  followed  his  advice  if  any  of  her  family  were  ill,  so  that 
there  was  a  great  friendship  between  them,  and  the  gardener, 
whose  name  was  Peter,  could  always  be  trusted  to  feed  and  care 
for  the  animals  if  Milly  were  away.  For  caged  birds  she  had  never 
cared — it  troubled  her  to  see  winged  creatures  shut  in  such  narrow 
prisons  and  deprived  of  all  their  rights  and  privileges — but  she  had 
a  large  family  of  table-boarders  in  the  way  of  birds  who  came 
every  morning  to  a  great  fiat  stone  on  the  southern  side  of  the 
house,  knowing  well  that,  no  matter  what  the  weather  might  be, 
they  would  find  their  table  brushed  clean  and  well  supplied  with 
grain  and  crumbs,  and  once  a  week  a  salad,  for  Milly  had  quite  a 
large  bed  of  chickweed  under  the  flower-stands  in  the  green-house, 
which  was  allowed  to  grow  expressly  for  her  pensioners,  although 
Peter  sometimes  protested  that  it  would  be  only  fair  to  put  up  a 
sign  explaining  why  it  was  there,  as  it  was  a  great  discredit  to  his 
tfardeningr 

Milly's  first  recollection  of  a  birthday — and  it  was  a  very  misty 
one — was  connected  with  a  box  of  o-ilt  -  and  -  white  china,  laree 
enough  tor  a  tea-party  of  the  most  grown  -  up  dolls,  which  her 
mother  had  spread  on  a  small  round  table  before  Milly's  wonder- 
ing eyes,  and  of  a  great  tumbler  of  ice-cream  which  her  father  had 
set  in  the  midst  of  the  saucers,  giving  her  a  spoon  to  "help"  it 
with.     And  there  were  saucers  enough  for  her  to  share  her  birth- 


A    HAPPY    BIRTHDAY.  IOI 


day-treat  with  her  mother  and  father,  her  nurse  and  the  cook  and 
the  housemaid  and  Peter. 

That  was  when  she  was  four  years  old :  now  she  was  eight,  and 
this  birthday  was  to  be  celebrated  in  a  new  and  delightful  way. 
Milly's  home  was  in  a  large  town  which  was  almost  a  city,  but  the 
house  had  plenty  of  ground  around  it,  and  although  her  mother 
and  father  sometimes  took  her  in  the  summer  to  the  seashore  or 
the  mountains,  the  house  was  never  closed.  But  better  than  any 
new  place  did  Milly  love  the  old  farm  where  her  mother  had  once 
lived,  and  where  two  aunts  and  two  uncles  lived  still.  The  lovely 
old-fashioned  house  stood  within  sound  of  the  sea,  and  here  Milly 
and  her  mother  and  father  were  going,  as  they  did  every  summer, 
for  a  visit  of  several  weeks.  But  this  year  the  uncles  and  aunts 
had  bested  that  the  visit  might  beg-in  with  the  birthday,  and  hinted 
at  so  many  delightful  ways  of  spending  birthdays  that  Milly  was  on 
tiptoe  with  expectation,  and  stood  at  the  gate  for  at  least  ten  min- 
utes waiting  for  the  large  carriage  which  was  to  take  them  all  to 
the  farm.  It  came  at  last,  and  on  so  lovely  a  day  the  drive  did  not 
seem  long,  even  to  an  impatient  little  person.  Prince  and  Frisk 
had  been  included  in  the  invitation,  and  Prince  bounded  along,  now 
in  front  and  now  behind,  while  Frisk  gave  impatient  little  barks  at 
being  obliged  to  sit  still  in   the  carriage. 

The  climbing  rose  which  half  covered  the  front  of  the  farm-house 
was  in  fullest  bloom,  and  Milly  thought  the  old  home  had  never 
looked  so  lovely  as  when  the  carriage  drew  up  to  the  gate  and  she 


102 


HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


sprang  eagerly  out.  A  very  warm  welcome  awaited  them,  and 
then  Milly  could  scarcely  wait  to  be  put  into  her  clean  gingham 
frock  and  white  apron  before   she  was  let  loose  to  explore   the 


"THE  CARRIAGE  DREW  UP  TO  THE  GATE,  AND  SHE  SPRANG  EAGERLY  OUT." 

place  and  see  whether  any  changes  had   occurred  since  the  year 
before. 

"  Don't  be  gone  too  long,"  said  Aunt  Mary,  smiling;  "  somebody 
is  coming  to  spend  the  day.  Just  run  and  look  at  the  new  swing 
in  the  barn,  and  your  seat  among  the  hazel-bushes,  and  your  'Swiss 
Family  Robinson  '  apple  tree,  and  by  that  time  I  think  Hatty  will 


K 


A    HAPPY   BIRTHDAY.  IO3 

be  here.     Nelly  will  come  to  tea,  but  she  is  going  to  school,  you 
know,  and  couldn't  come  for  the  day." 

Hatty  and  Nelly  were  two  pleasant  little  neighbors  with  whom 
Milly  had  played  a  great  deal  the  summer  before,  and  she  clapped 
her  hands  with  delight  when  she  heard  they  were  coming,  exclaim- 
ing, "  Oh,  Aunt  Mary,  how  very  kind  that  was  !" 

The  "  Swiss  Family  Robinson  apple  tree  "  was  a  tree  with  low- 
hanging,  widespread  boughs,  in  which  Uncle  George  had  built  her 
a  wonderful  summer  -  house,  large  enough  to  hold  five  or  six 
people  :  he  had  put  a  little  table  and  six  little  chairs  in  it ;  it  had 
charming  latticed  windows  which  opened  like  shutters,  and  was 
reached  by  a  sort  of  combined  step- and  -  rope  ladder  which  could 
be  drawn  up  in  case  of  siege.  On  many  a  wet  day  he  had  bundled 
Milly  up  in  an  old  shawl  and  taken  her  for  a  visit  to  the  apple-tree 
house,  where  certain  dolls  lived  all  the  year  round,  and  others  for 
the  summer  only.  Now,  as  her  head  rose  above  the  ladder-stair, 
she  saw  a  beautiful  little  basket  on  the  table.  It  was  twined  with 
flowers,  and  a  card  was  tied  with  blue  ribbon  to  the  handle ;  and  as 
Milly  bent  over  it  she  saw  it  was  full  of  large  white  eggs,  and  on 
the  card  was  written  in  large  round  hand,  "  Milly,"  and  underneath 
her  name, 

"Old  Mrs.   Speckle  humbly  begs 
Vou  will  accept  her  freshest  eggs." 

Milly  clapped  her  hands  delightedly.     "  Why,  that's  the  poor  old 
hen  I  fished  out  of  the  water-butt !"  she  said  aloud.     Taking  the 


104  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


pretty  basket  on  her  arm,  she  went  carefully  down  the  stairs  and 
hurried  to  the  barn.  There  hung  the  new  swing,  made  of  stout 
rope  and  with  a  sort  of  low  chair  for  a  seat.  A  bundle  was  tied  to 
one  arm  of  the  chair,  with  another  blue-ribboned  card  upon  it, 
inscribed  "  Milly,"  and  this  time   Milly  read, 

"  Your  warm  friend  Rover  begs  that  you'll  adorn 
This  hammock,  where  you'll  never  find  a  thorn." 

The  hammock  was  long  and  strong  and  fine,  made  of  prettily- 
colored  sea-grass  ;  hooks  were  fitted  into  the  ends,  and  Milly  did 
not  have  to  look  far  to  find  the  rings  and  staples  arranged  for 
swingringr  it. 

"  He's  given  it  to  me  because  I  pulled  the  thorn  out  of  his  foot," 
she  said.  "  If  s  just  like  a  fairy-story,  and  I'm  going  to  pretend  all 
day  that  it's  perfectly  true.  I  wonder  what  I'll  find  in  the  hazel- 
bush  seat?"  and  she  hurried  off  to  see. 

The  seat  had  been  freshly  painted  and  the  bushes  trimmed  into 
a  sort  of  arbor  around  it.  Two  mysterious-looking  bundles  lay  on 
the  seat — a  round  high  one,  and  a  long  narrow  one.  The  round 
one  was  opened  first,  and  was  found  to  contain  two  pasteboard 
boxes.  The  top  box  held  one  of  the  dainty  little  cream  cheeses 
which  Milly  never  saw  anywhere  except  at  Sweetbrier  Farm ; 
and  once  more  there  was  a  verse  : 

"  Dear  little  Milly,  you'll  surely  not 
Refuse  this  cheese  from  your  grateful  Spot  ? 


'ROVER   AND  DOUGLAS  AND  THE  LAT  AND  THE   KITTEN   WATCHED   HER" 

See  Page  108 


A    HAPPY   BIRTHDAY.  IOJ 


You'll  eat  it  soon,  if  you'll  let  me  advise, 
Before  it  is  carried  off  by  the  flies." 

"  Why,  Spot's  the  cow  that  I  used  to  keep  the  flies  off  of  at 
milking-time  because  she  had  a  sore  ear!"  exclaimed  Miily;  "and 
oh,  what's  this  ?"  as  she  opened  the  second  box.  It  was  a  beauti- 
ful frosted  cake,  with  her  name  and  the  date  in  pink  sugar,  and 
eight  candles,  of  different  colors,  arranged  on  the  top,  all  ready  for 
liehtine-  This  time  there  was  no  verse  on  the  card  ;  it  only  said  : 
"For  our  dear  little  Milly,  with  two  heartsful  of  love,  from  Aunt 
Mary  and  Aunt  Kitty." 

Milly  was  almost  too  much  overcome  to  open  the  long  parcel, 
but  not  quite ;  and  there  lay  a  lovely  wax-headed  lady  with  long 
fair  curls  and  tranquilly-closed  eyes.  Milly  raised  her  gently,  as  if 
fearing  to  wake  her,  and  the  soft  blue  eyes  flew  open  with  so  life- 
like an  expression  that  Milly  hugged  her  rapturously  to  her  heart. 
Then  she  found  a  little  note  fastened  to  the  pretty  hand,  and  read  : 

"  Dear  little  mother,  take  me  in  : 
I  will  do  my  best  your  heart  to  win. 
I've  the  realest  hair  and  a  lasting  bloom, 
And  you'll  find  my  trunk,  with  yours,  in  your  room." 

And,  sure  enough,  when  Milly  rushed  up  stairs  to  see,  there  was  a 
miniature  Saratoga  trunk  containing  everything  the  heart  of  doll 
could  wish  ;  and  when  she  came  quite  to  the  bottom  she  found 
two  visiting-cards  :  "Mr.  George  Loring"  and  "Mr.  John  Loring." 
'•  I  might  have  guessed  that  it  was  Uncle   George  and   Uncle 


IOS  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

Jack,"  she  cried  rapturously. — "Oh,  come  with  me  right  away,  you 
beauty,  till  I  thank  them  all."    . 

If  any  stranger  had  been  in  the  parlor,  I  am  afraid  he  would 
have  thought  that  a  very  crazy  little  girl  lived  in  that  house  ;  but, 
fortunately,  nobody  was  there  who  did  not  know  all  about  it. 
Milly's  home-presents  had  been  on  the  breakfast-table — a  charming 
story-book  and  a  beautifully-fitted  work-box — and  this  shower  of 
fairy-gifts  had  taken  her  entirely  by  surprise.  When  the  excite- 
ment had  subsided  a  little,  Milly  suddenly  found  herself  very 
hungry,  and  remembered  that  she  had  not  waited  to  eat  much 
breakfast.  But  when  she  modestly  asked  for  a  roll,  Aunt  Mary 
said,  smiling,  "  I  think  I  remember  Somebody  used  to  have  a  great 
liking  for  Huldah's  mush,  and  I  have  no  doubt  there  will  be  enough 
left  to  fry  for  breakfast  if  you  eat  a  bowlful  now." 

So  Milly  ran  into  the  kitchen,  and  Huldah  poured  rich  milk  over 
the  steaming  mush,  and  Milly  made  a  table  of  the  little  bench 
which  Huldah  pulled  out  for  her  to  sit  on,  but  Rover  and  Doug- 
las and  the  black  cat,  and  the  small  kitten  who  had  not  a  name 
yet,  all  watched  her  so  wistfully  that  she  left  half  her  generous 
portion  to  divide  among  them,  although  Huldah  declared,  indig- 
nantly, that  they  had  all  had  as  much  breakfast  as  ever  they 
could  eat. 

And  then  little  Hatty  came,  and  the  two  children,  after  exchang- 
ing very  loving  greetings,  wandered  off  hand  in  hand.  There  was 
so  much  to  see  and  to  do — ferns  and  flowers  to  gather  to  adorn 


mm 


m 


f 


'^\?' 


&< 


*W- 


the  birthday  tea-table,  the  beach  to 
visit,  the  new  swingf  and  hammock 
to  try,  the  lovely  waxen  lady  with 
her  pretty  wardrobe  to  be  exhib- 
ited and  admired — no  wonder  the 
time  flew  and  both  little  maid- 
ens were  surprised  by  the  ringing 
J  of  the  dinner-bell  before  anything 
had  been  done  besides  the  visit  to 
the  barn  and  the  longer  visit  to 
the  doll  and  her  trunk. 

"  I  shall  call   her   Harriet  Helen," 
said   Milly  as  she  and   Nelly  tripped 


« 


^~*m 


r    ifo  '« 


7/^K 


w 


---^'v;?!^ 


fi^f-J: 


'    f.   .,_' 


>f 


zif-  J^. 


IIO  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

down  to  dinner;  and  Hatty  acknowledged  her  share  of  the  honor 
with  a  very  loving  kiss. 

Dinner  at  Sweetbrier  Farm  took  place  at  the  good  old-fashioned 
hour  of  one  o'clock,  so  there  was  time  for  a  little  rest  in  the  hazel 
bower  before  the  walk  to  the  beach ;  and  then  the  little  maids 
started  out  once  more,  to  return  laden  with  treasures — maiden- 
hair fern,  and  great  white  daisies  with  golden  hearts,  and  wild 
honeysuckle,  and  curious  shells  and  stones  picked  up  on  the  beach. 
And  while  they  were  adorning  the  table,  which  was  set  in  the  wide, 
vine-covered  back  piazza,  Nelly  came  and  helped  and  admired. 
Old  Speckle's  contribution  to  the  feast  was  skilfully  scrambled  by 
Huldah  ;  the  cream  cheese  and  the  pretty  cake  had  each  a  wreath 
of  ferns  and  daisies  ;  there  was  a  great  dish  of  early  strawberries, 
coaxed  into  ripeness  by  the  care  of  the  two  uncles  for  this  won- 
derful day — such  cream  and  milk  and  butter  and  sweet  homemade 
bread  and  crisp  lettuce  and  radishes  as  poor  city  people  do  not 
even  dream  of. 

And  then,  when  the  birthday-feast  had  been  duly  honored,  the 
two  uncles  carried  off  the  children  to  help  them  "  call  the  cattle 
home ;"  and  Milly  nearly  jumped  into  the  brook  in  her  haste  to 
reach  old  Spot,  who  stood  on  the  other  side  with  a  nearly  grown-up 
calf  of  her  very  own.  ^ 

And  then  they  wandered  home  in  the  soft  summer  twilight,  and 
a  great  round  moon  came  up  from  behind  the  hills  and  shone  on 
the  snowy  fleeces  of  the  sheep  as  they  lay  scattered  over  the  tran- 


A    HAPPY   BIRTHDAY. 


I  I  I 


quil  meadow.  And  when  the  little  friends  had  said  good-night,  and 
gone  home  through  the  moonlit  fields  with  their  father,  who  had 
come  for  them,  Milly  said  that  she  was  so  "tired  with  happiness" 


"OLD  SPOT  STOOD  ON  THE  OTHER  SIDE   WITH   HER  CALF." 

that  she  would  go  to  bed  ;  so,  first  undressing  her  new  child,  and 
then  herself,  she  sank  with  a  happy  sigh  into  her  white  nest.  But 
before  she  had  even  begun  to  go  to  sleep  she  heard  under  her 
window  the  tinkle  of  a  guitar. 


I  I  2  HO  LID  A  YS   A  T   HOME. 


"It's  Uncle  John  !"  she  said,  springing  up  and  peeping  from  the 
window;  "and  oh,  I  haven't  heard  him  play  and  sing  for  nearly  a 
year,  and  I've  never  in  my  whole  life  been   serenaded  before  !" 

But  could  that  romantic-looking  minstrel,  in  a  Spanish-looking 
hat  and  cloak  and  with  the  ribbon  of  his  euitar  thrown  over  his 
shoulder,  be  quiet  Unc'.e  John?  Milly  doubted  for  a  minute,  but 
when  the  sweet  tenor  voice  joined  the  accompaniment  of  the  guitar 
she  smiled  to  herself:  "  It  is  Uncle  John  ;  he  can't  disguise  his  voice. 
And  when  he  is  done  I  will  throw  him  a  flower ;  they  always  do 
that  in  stories." 

Perhaps  it  was  not  a  usual  selection  for  a  serenade,  but  this  was 
what  the  minstrel  sang  : 

"  Sleep,  baby,  sleep  I 
Thy  father's  watching  the  sheep, 
Thy  mother's  shaking  the  Dreamland  tree, 
And  down  drops  a  little  dream  for  thee  : 
Sleep,  baby,   sleep  ! 

"  Sleep,  baby,  sleep  ! 

The  large  stars  are  the  sheep. 

The  little  stars  are  the  lambs,   I  guess  ; 

The  bright  moon  is  the  shepherdess  : 

t 
Sleep,  baby,  sleep  ! 

"  Sleep,  baby,  sleep  ! 
And  cry  not  like  a  sheep, 
Else  the  sheep-dog  will  bark  and  whine, 
And  bite  this  naughty  child  of  mine  : 
Sleep,  baby,  sleep  ! 


ii4 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


And  as  the  last  note  died  away  a  sweet  white  rose  fell  on  the 
troubadour's  guitar.  He  kissed  his  hand  to  his  little  lady,  and  she 
fell  asleep  with  sweet  fragments  of  his  song  drifting  through  her 
mind  as  the  white  clouds  were  drifting  over  the  silver  face  of  the 
moon. 


THE   KING'S   THREE   SONS. 


T  was  a  smiling  and  peaceful  king- 
dom, truly, 
And  the  King  of  Gingal  was  every 
inch  a  king; 
So  his  sons,  for  wilfully  breaking  a 
law  made  newly, 
Were  turned  out  of  doors  because 
they  would  not  sing. 
After  deep  thought  had  this  strange  law  been  spoken, 

For  deep  in  his  heart  the  good  of  his  people  lay : 
By  none  who  love  me,"  he  said,  "will  this  law  be  broken  ; 
Each  of  my  subjects  must  sing  at  least  once  a  day." 


Moodily  strode  the  eldest  son  one  morning 

Forth  from  the  palace,  angry  and  ashamed, 
Muttering,  "  I  gave  my  royal  father  warning  : 

I  cannot  help  it;  why  should  I  be  blamed? 
How  can  I  sing,  seeing,  as  I  do  daily, 

Right  slain  or  wounded  by  the  touch  of  wrong? 
The  innocent  suffer ;  guilty  ones  go  gayly  ; 

My  heart  is  all  too  hot  and  wroth  for  song." 


115 


I  1 6  HO  LI  DA  YS    A  T    HOME. 


On  the  next  day  went  mournfully  another, 

His  gentle  face  marred  by  a  look  of  sadness. 
"  Alas  !"  he  said,  "  I  cannot  blame  my  brother  ; 

While  pain  has  victims  where  is  room  for  gladness 
In  the  dark  forest  found  I,  as  I  wandered, 

A  wounded  stag,  a  bird  with  broken  wing : 
As  on  this  helpless  suffering  I  pondered, 

How  thought  my  royal  father  I  could  sing?" 

On  the  third  day  a  third  son  left  the  palace, 

And  rushed  to  hide  his  anger  in  the  wood. 
"This  law,"  he  said,  "is  nothing  but  sheer  malice  : 

Why  am  I  never  to  be  understood? 
When  deep  research  and  lofty  thought  enchain  me, 

Shall  I  break  off  a  foolish  soncr  to  sing-? 
Surely  this  law  was  only  framed  to  pain  me  : 

It  was  not  well  done  of  my  lord  the  king." 

The  eldest  son,  whom  want  or  care  had  never 
Before  come  near,  stood  at  a  cottage-door 

Asking  for  shelter  ;   "  And  I  will  endeavor 

To  work  for  you,"  he  faltered. — "  Say  no  more," 

The  cotter  cried  :  his  voice  was  clear  and  ring-ine; 
He  grave  his  hand  with  frank  and  smiling-  erace. 


'EACH   OF  MY   SUBJECTS   MUST  SING  AT   LEAST  ONCE  A   DAY." 


See  Page  us- 


THE    KING'S    THREE    SONS. 


IIQ 


"At  dusk,"  he  said,  "all  comers  find  me  singing 
It  guides  full  many  a  wanderer  to  the  place. 

"You  wonder  why  I  sing?     You  see  the  token 
That  once  I  lived  not  humbly?     It  is  true  ; 
But  from  the  life  I  thought  for  ever  broken 
A  higher,  better  life  has  sprung  anew. 


•'HER    BREAiT   AGAINST    A    THORN,   THE   NIGHTINGALE." 

Here  have  I  watched  sweet  growths  from  death  upspringing : 

Hope  is  fulfilled,  it  may  be  soon  or  late. 
Good  cause  have  I,' forsooth,  my  friend,  for  singing, 

For  I  have  learned  the  lesson,  Trust  and  Wait." 

The  gentle  boy,  whom  pity  had  so  saddened, 
Sank  down  in  weariness  beneath  an  oak  : 


120  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


A  gush  of  music  near  his  whole  heart  gladdened, 
The  while  with  tenderness  it  almost  broke. 
"Ah,  could  I  sing  that  song!"   he  murmured,  seeking 
To  find  the  singer  of  the  enchanted  vale. 
And  he  discovered,  even  as  he  was  speaking, 
Her  breast  against  a  thorn,  the  nightingale. 

"  I  let  the  thorns  that  pierced  me  hush  my  singing," 
He  said  with  shame  ;  and  then  the  woods  again 
With  the  full  melody  of  the  bird  were  ringing, 
Who  used  her  pain  to  learn  to  comfort  pain. 
"  I  will  go  back  ;  I  have  been  weak,  defying 
A  law  whose  worth  I  did  not  understand. 
Now  shall  my  father  find,  in  my  complying, 

That  full  obedience  love  should  e'er  command." 


The  third  son  found  no  shelter ;   in  the  forest, 

Stretched  on  dead  leaves,  he  lay  the  whole  night  long, 
And  when  the  darkness  and  the  chill  were  sorest, 

The  dawn  broke,  and  he  heard  the  lark's  Mad  songf. 
His  dim  eyes  followed,  up  through  the  blue  unbroken 

By  cloud  or  mist,  the  singer  in  her  flight, 
Until  her  glad  song  was  the  only  token 

That  she  had  reached  that  far,  untroubled  height. 


DEER   IN   THE  FOREST. 


See  Page  116. 


THE    KING'S    THREE    SONS.  I  23 

And  then  the  wayward  prince  upstarted,  sobbing  : 

"  My  father,  it  was  I  who  did  the  wrong ! 
Selfishly  have  I  lived,  yet  have  been  robbing 

Myself  of  joy  in  grudging  thee  the  song." 
With  hasty  step  he  sought  his  home  ;  the  others 

By  different  roads  met  him  without  the  gate : 
Joyful  the  greeting  was  between  the  brothers, 

Who  entered,  singing,  "  It  is  not  too  late  !" 

My  little  children,  you  whose  lives  of  gladness, 

Unshadowed  yet,  make  singing  seem  like  speech, 
Treasure  your  songs  up  for  the  times  of  sadness 

Which  on  your  way  will  surely  come  to  each. 
It  will  be  hard  sometimes.     We  live  forgetting, 

Too  often,  that  we  are  children  of  a  King : 
Life  brings  us  toiling,  mourning,  waiting,  fretting ; 

Out  of  it  all  look  up,  dear  hearts,  and  sing ! 


TWO   GOOD 
FRIENDS. 


"VES,"     purred    the 
*-     Black     Cat,    in    a 
loud,  musical  purr,  "  her 
face,    her    sweet    young 
face,    is    the    very   first 
thing  which  I   distinctly 
remember,  although,  of 
rse,  I   must  have  seen  oth- 
ngs  first.     I   climbed  in, 
great  difficulty,  over  the 
r  window,  and  there  she 
te  gown  and  with  a  bow 
oi   blue  ribbon  in  her  soft  brown   hair.     She  had  a  great  bunch  of 

124 


TWO     GOOD    FRIENDS. 


12' 


sewing  in  her  lap,  but  she  threw  it  down  and  picked  me  up,  and 
cuddled  me  and  loved  me  and  talked  to  me,  until  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  I  would  be  civil  to  the  rest,  but  would  belong  only 
to  her.  And  1  have  done  it  ever  since.  They  all  like  me — I  hear 
something  pleasant  said  about  me  every  day  by  one  or  the  other 


^A^r^ka^lA^Q|I^M|ft4^*''; 

—IT, "    Hr jA/'i  M& 

liP_^^55s?^^^si,i.; 

HpW^^Trt^^          y,  >  Wwffl 

f -^sg#i 

mm'  -  <>x  '-Sljiidli 

1  -T^^^^lil 

IBr^rf^L .    ^P 1 1  jf 

JEjeH 

mr     J&            ^Mj$frilE& 

^^^2^^Nf£^i 

^trriTii^ii'niri^i 

fj^^V  %  IS  Ib  fla  MK                       * ,=^ 

^^^%  ^r«\^^^- 

i^j£^«T^  jJ»!^^  *  ^  -_*Ss^?"^^^^ 

'I   HAVE  A  GOOD  BED   BY   THE   KITCHEN-FIRE.1 


ot  them — but  Clementine  is  the  only  one  who  tells  me  things  when 
we  are  quite  alone.  It  must  have  been  in  the  summer,  that  first 
day  that  she  picked  me  up.  The  trees  were  full  of  leaves,  and  the 
air  was  lull  of  birds,  and  the  passion-vine  was  blooming  all  over 
the  window.  But  winter  is  just  as  good.  We  have  warm  red 
curtains   and   cushions   in   winter,  and   beautiful   bright  fires  which 


126  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 

heat  one's  back  delightfully,  and  Clementine  sits  with  me  more  in 
winter,  especially  in  the  evenings." 

"  You  have  a  very  happy  home,  my  dear,"  purred  the  White  Cat 
gently — "  far  happier  than  I  have  ever  had.  They  give  me  enough 
to  eat  at  my  house,  and  a  good  bed  by  the  kitchen-fire,  and  they 
like  to  see  me  clean  and  neat,  and  they  praise  me  whenever  I  catch 
a  rat  or  mouse ;  but  nobody  ever  picks  me  up  and  cuddles  me,  and 
once,  when  I  was  feeling  very  lonely  and  jumped  up  in  the  house- 
keeper's lap,  she  held  up  both  hands  and  stood  up  in  a  way  which 
slid  me  off.  I  suppose  I  must  have  looked  hurt — I  felt  so — for  she 
said  good-naturedly,  '  There,  Pussy,  you're  a  good  little  cat,  but  your 
place  is  the  floor.  I  can't  have  your  hairs  all  over  my  gown ;'  and 
then  she  turned  to  the  housemaid,  and  said,  '  I  don't  know  why  it 
is,  but  it  always  gives  me  a  kind  of  cold  creep  down  my  back  to 
touch  a  cat.' 

"  I  walked  round  behind  her  at  once ;  I  didn't  see  anything  of 
the  cold  creep,  or  I  would  have  caught  it  for  her ;  but  you  may  well 
believe  that  I  have  never  sat  on  her  lap  since,  and  that  I  have  hesi- 
tated about  trying  any  one  else." 

The  White  Cat,  whose  family  had  moved  into  the  neighborhood 
recently,  was  taking  tea  with  the  Black  Cat,  whose  family  had  lived 
for  many,  many  years  in  the  beautiful  old  gabled  house  among  the 
trees.  They  were  sitting  in  front  of  a  cheerful  fire,  and  it  seemed 
to  them  all  the  cozier  as  they  listened  to  the  wind  among  the  trees 
and  the  sleet  dashing  against  the  windows.     The  warm   red  cur- 


TWO     GOOD    FRIENDS. 


127 


tains  were  closely  drawn.  A  softly  burning  lamp  stood  among 
many  books  on  the  little  table,  and  on  the  red  couch  drawn  up  to 
one  side  of  the  fire  lay  Clementine  asleep. 


"THEY   WERE  SITTING  IN    FRONT  OF  A  CHEERFUL  FIRE." 

"  I'm  afraid  she  isn't  well,"  purred  the  Black  Cat  softly,  and  looking 
a  little  anxiously  at  the  pretty  sleeping  face,  which  seemed  flushed. 
"  She  would  go  out  this  afternoon  in  all  the  storm,  because  she 
had  promised  some  things  to  some  of  her  poor  people.  I  wish 
you  could  have  seen  her  when  she  came  in  :  her  cheeks  were  as 
red  as  roses,  and  the  wind  had  pulled  her  hair  all  about  her  eyes. 
But  she  was  all  out  of  breath,  and  very  wet  indeed,  and  as  she 
went  to  change  her  clothes  and  shoes,  the  housemaid — who  is  a 
careless  young  thing — stopped  her  to  tell  her  about  some  sick 
person  who  had  sent  for  beef-tea  ;  and  she  stopped  to  weigh  the 
beef  and  measure  the  water;  and  when  she  came  up  to  her  room 


128 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


at  last  her  cheeks  were  quite  white  and  she  was  shivering.  If  her 
mother  had  only  been  at  home,  she  would  have  given  Clementine 
some  hot  tea  and  made  her  go  to  bed  ;  but  there  was  the  bread- 
and  -  butter  to  cut,  and  the  tea  to  pour  out  for  her  father  and  the 
children;  so  she  ran  down  again  when  she  had  changed  her  clothes 
and  shoes  :   she  never  seems  to  remember  that  she  has  a  herself." 

"  I  think  we  grow  like  the  people  with  whom  we  live,"  purred  the 
White  Cat.     "  1  feel  myself  growing  more  reserved  and  quiet  every 

day,  although  I  try  to  be  cheer- 


,l:::' 


Wi 


M 


&  ful  and  playful  with  my  baby, 
for  I  don't  wish  her  to  grow 
up  silent  and  sad. — But  you 
have  quite  forgotten  that  I 
came  over  this  evening  ex- 
pressly to  hear  you  tell  about 
the  flood,  and  how  you  saved 
Clementine's  little  brother." 

"  Oh,"  purred  the  Black  Cat 
modestly,  "  very  probably  the 

•'1    CARRIED    HER   TO   THE   SOFT    MAT."  baby     WQuld     ^g     been     savgd 

without  me — no  doubt  some  one  would  have  seen  the  cradle. 
But  tell  me,  first,  about  your  baby :  you  know  I  haven't  seen 
her  yet.     Don't  they  take  any  notice  of  her?" 

"  About  as  much  as  they  do  of  me,"  purred  the  White  Cat  sadly. 
"  And  I  really  made  an  effort  for  her  sake — a  very  great  effort  for 


TWO     GOOD    FRIENDS.  I  2Q 

me.  I  thought  perhaps  their  hearts  would  be  touched  by  her  sweet 
little  ways,  so  I  carried  her  to  the  soft  mat  in  front  of  the  younger 
sister's  door,  and  stood  there  till  the  door  opened  and  she  came 
out.  She  was  not  cross — she  never  is — but  she  called  the  house- 
maid and  said,  '  Carry  the  kitten  back  to  its  basket,  Jane  ;  and  if 
you  see  the  cat  bringing  it  here  again,  just  shut  them  in  the  laun- 
dry, and  leave  a  window  open  for  the  cat  to  go  in  and  out.'  That 
is  what  they  all  call  me — '  the  cat,'  or  '  Pussy,'  or  '  Kitty.'  They 
have  never  even  given  me  a  name  !"  and  the  White  Cat  put  her 
paw  over  her  eyes  for  a  minute. 

"That  is  hard,"  purred  the  Black  Cat  feelingly,  "  but  perhaps 
they  don't  know  any  better.  I  always  try  to  think  that  is  the 
reason  when  people  treat  me  as  1  don't  like  to  be  treated,  for  I  am 
certain   I  have  often  annoyed  others  in   that  way  myself." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  purred  the  White  Cat,  brightening  up 
a  little  ;  "  I  didn't  think  of  that  before.  But  now  do  tell  me  about 
the  flood;  I  must  be  croing-  soon  :  I  haven't  ever  left  mv  babv  this 
long  before." 

"It  was  several  years  ago,"  purred  the  Black  Cat  thoughtfully — 
"I  don't  know  just  how  many,  for  I  never  could  learn  to  count,  but 
I  was  not  quite  grown  up.  It  rained  for  days  and  days,  almost 
without  stopping  a  minute,  and  one  night,  just  before  bedtime, 
Clementine's  father  came  in  and  said,  '  I  don't  like  the  look  of  the 
river;  it  is  nearly  up  to  the  lower  terrace,  and  rising  rapidly.' 

" '  It  came  a  little  higher  than  that  last  spring,  dear,'  said  Clem- 


130  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

entine's   mother,  '  but  it  didn't  do  any  damage,  and  we'll  hope  it 
will  not  this  time.' 

"So  they  went  to  bed,  but  I  did  not.  I  had  that  uneasy  feeling 
which  comes  over  me  when  I  am  anywhere  near  where  mice  are 
hidden.  They  always  left  the  doors  of  the  rooms  open  at  night, 
and  after  the  lights  were  put  out  I  just  walked  softly  from  room 
to  room,  so  that  I  might  be  ready  to  wake  them  in  case  anything 
should  happen.  Several  of  the  bedrooms  were  on  the  ground- 
floor — Clementine's,  and  her  mother's  and  father's,  and  a  little 
room  between  where  the  nurse  and  Baby  slept.  I  heard  the  wa- 
ter running  faster  and  faster,  and  at  last,  when  I  crossed  the  hall,  I 
found  the  floor  was  wet,  and  there  was  a  noise,  as  if  people  were 
knocking  at  the  great  front  doors  of  the  hall.  I  thought  it  was 
high  time  to  wake  my  people  up,  and  that  I  had  better  wake  the 
father  first,  because  he  was  the  oldest  and  strongest,  and  would 
know  best  what  to  do. 

"  But  before  I  could  get  out  of  the  hall  the  front  and  back  doors 
burst  open  at  once  with  a  noise  like  loud  thunder;  the  water 
rushed  in  as  if  the  whole  river  were  coming,  and  I  was  lifted  off 
my  feet  as  if  I  had  been  a  feather  and  swept  out  of  the  front  door. 
I  managed  to  seize  a  chair  and  cling  desperately  to  it,  and  I  had 
only  floated  along  for  a  few  minutes  when  I  heard  the  baby  cry. 
It  was  not  very  dark,  for  there  was  a  large  moon  behind  the  clouds, 
and  it  had  stopped  raining ;  so  in  a  few  minutes  I  could  see  the 
cradle  quite  plainly.     It  was  floating  very  nicely,  just  like  a  boat, 


TWO     GOOD    FRIENDS.  1 33 

and  I  decided  at  once  that  it  was  my  duty  to  join  the  baby  ;  he 
mi«ht  stop  crying,  and  then  float  silently  away  before  any  one 
knew  where  he  was.  I  could  easily  have  jumped  to  the  cradle,  but 
I  was  afraid  that  my  weight,  added  so  suddenly,  might  make  it  rock, 
and  so  fill  it ;  so  I  left  my  chair,  and  with  great  difficulty  struggled 
through  the  water  and  climbed  carefully  in  over  the  foot-board. 
And,  sure  enough,  the  baby  did  stop  crying  in  a  few  minutes,  and 
went  to  sleep.  I  don't  know  how  many  hours  it  was  before  they 
found  us.  We  had  floated  quite  away  from  our  home,  and  I  knew 
by  the  barns  and  stacks  that  we  must  be  in  a  farmyard,  but  I  could 
not  see  any  one  anywhere,  and  so  I  kept  quiet,  saving  up  all  my 
mews  till  I  should  have  a  chance  to  make  some  one  hear. 

"  I  did  not  have  to  wait  much  longer.  The  baby  waked  and  lay 
quite  still,  playing  with  his  fingers  and  staring  about  with  great, 
wondering  eyes.  And  then  I  saw  a  boat  away  off,  around  the 
corner  of  a  barn,  and  I  knew  my  time  had  come  to  mew.  I  don't 
think  I  ever  made  such  a  noise  in  my  life  as  I  did  then — no,  not 
even  on  the  few  occasions  when  my  tail  had  been  stepped  upon. 
And  they  heard  me  ;  I  soon  saw  the  boat  turn  and  come  toward  us, 
and  then  1  saw  that  the  two  people  in  it  were  Baby's  mother  and 
father.  The  poor  mother  sat  with  clasped  hands  as  the  father 
poled  the  boat  along  with  all  his  might,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they 
had  come  up  close  to  the  cradle  and  lifted  out  their  baby,  and  me 
too.  Then  they  tied  the  cradle  to  the  end  of  the  boat,  and  we  all 
went  to  a  house  where  the  water  had  not  come  in,  and  stayed  till 


134  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


the  river  went  down  and  our  own  house  was  dry  and  clean  once 
more ;  and  it  was  after  this  that  the  father  had  that  beautiful  broad- 
topped  wall,  where  you  and  I  so  often  meet,  built  all  along  the 
front  of  our  place,  and  banked  up  behind  with  earth  almost  to 
the  top." 

"That  was  very  interesting,"  purred  the  White  Cat  as  the  Black 
Cat  stopped.  "  No  wonder  they  all  love  you  and  make  so  much 
of  you.  I  wish  such  an  opportunity  would  come  to  me  ;  it  might 
change  everything.  But  I  really  must  go  now  :  I  had  no  idea  of 
staying  so  late,  and  I  don't  know  what  might  happen  if  my  baby 
were  to  cry  much  :  they  might  give  her  away  to  somebody.  Good- 
night, and  thank  you  for  a  very  pleasant  evening  ;"  and  the  White 
Cat  was  gone. 

The  Black  Cat  turned  and  looked  at  Clementine.  "  Her  cheeks 
are  as  red  as  they  were  when  she  came  in  this  afternoon,"  she 
purred,  "  so  perhaps  she  will  not  be  ill,  after  all." 

It  was  a  bright  afternoon  nearly  a  week  after  this  pleasant  even- 
ing, and  the  Black  Cat  was  sitting  on  top  of  the  wall  in  the  sun  ; 
but  she  looked  very  serious,  and  took  no  notice  of  the  dead  leaves 
which  blew  about,  nor  of  the  birds  which  hopped  along  the  bank 
looking  for  worms  ;  she  did  not  even  see  that  the  White  Cat  was 
coming  until  their  noses  almost  touched,  and  then  she  started  up, 
exclaiming,  "  Bless  me  !   how  you  made  me  jump  !" 

"  I    beg   your    pardon,"    purred    the   White   Cat   meekly,  "  but   I 


TWO    GOOD    FRIENDS.  1 35 

thought  you  must  see  me.      I'm   afraid    something  is   the  matter, 
you  look  so  sad." 

"There  is,  indeed,"  purred  the  Black  Cat.  "Clementine  is  ill, 
very  ill.  It  began  that  evening  you  took  tea  with  me,  as,  you 
know,  we  feared  that  it  would ;  and  now  she  has  something  with 
a  hard  name  :  I  couldn't  quite  make  it  out,  although  I  heard  the 
doctor  tell  her  mother,  but  I  am  pretty  sure  he  said  it  was  some- 
thing'new.'  I  sat  outside  the  door  listening  until  I  found  that  I 
was  in  the  way,  and  her  breathing  sounded  like  mine  did  once 
when  they  accidentally  put  a  feather  bed  on  top  of  me.  They  sent 
for  her  mother  right  away,  and  everybody  is  keeping  very  still ; 
even  the  baby  does  not  scream  when  he  is  washed,  and  I  heard 
him  saying  to  himself,  '  Poor  Tiny  !'  It  went  to  my  very  heart." 
And  the  Black   Cat  covered  her  eyes  with  her  paw. 

"  Don't  give  way,  my  dear  friend,"  purred  the  White  Cat,  sooth- 
ingly. "  Clementine  is  very  young,  and  I  think  that  helps  people 
to  get  well.  And  our  Miss  Abigail  was  ill  for  weeks,  and  they  all 
cried  and  said  she  couldn't  get  well,  possibly  ;  but  I  do  believe  she 
is  stronger  now  than  the  other  two.  And,  somehow,  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  way  you  all  love  Clementine  will  keep  her  from 
dying." 

"You  are  a  real  comforter,"  purred  the  Black  Cat,  bracing  up, 
"and  I  will  try  to  feel  more  hopeful.  But  what  has  made  you  so 
much  brighter  ?     You  look  like  another  cat." 

"And  I  feel  like  one,"  purred  the  White  Cat  cheerfully.     "Since 


136 


HOLIDAYS   AT    HOME. 


I  saw  you  last  a  little  child  has  come  to  live  with  us,  and  you  can't 
imagine  the  difference  it  has  made  already.  She  is  a  timid  little 
thing,  and  at  first  the  great  silent  house  and  the  quiet  old  ladies 
made  her  look  just  as  I  felt ;  so  1  thought  perhaps  it  would  cheer 
her  up  a  little  if  she  could  see  my  baby ;  she  looked  so  quiet  and 
gentle  that  I  was  not  afraid  to  trust  her.  She  had  been  sent  out  to 
play  in  the  yard,  and  the  cook — who  is  always  afraid  we  will  not 
get  enough  to  eat — called  her  in  and  gave  her  a  nice  bowl  of  bread 
and  cream.  I  waited  till  she  had  finished  it,  for  I  did  not  wish  her 
to  think  that  I  was  beggrinor  ancl  then    I   came  and  told  her  about 

the  kitten.     She  was  a 


=-   '■z^~      ^J-  -Z^%^</  i  '    A-  ^ 


■I  CAME  AND  TOLD  HER  ABOUT  THE  KITTEN." 


little  afraid  at  first — 
she  is  so  very  small — 
but  I  smiled  and  purred, 
and  presently  she  said 
softly,  'Poor  pussy ! 
Why  didn't  you  come 
sooner?  You  should 
have  had  some,  but 
now  it  is  all  gone.'  I 
soon  made  her  see  that 
I  wished  her  to  follow 
me ;   and   I  would    like 


you  to  have  seen  her  when  she  found  the  kitten.     She  has  been  as 
gay  as  a  lark  ever  since,  and  the  old  aunts  are  so  pleased  with  the 


TWO    GOOD    FRIENDS.  1 37 


change  that  they  encourage  her  to  play  with  it;  they  have  actually 
given  her  a  little  basket  with  a  cushion  in  it  to  carry  the  kitten 
about,  so  that  she  may  not  handle  it  too  much.  And  the  dear  little 
thing  has  named  us  both,  and  insists  upon  having  us  called  by  our 
names.  She  calls  me  Lily,  and  the  baby  Blossom,  and  you  may  be 
sure  that  I  come  the  very  moment  I  hear  my  name.  It  all  seems 
too  good  to  be  true." 

"  I  congratulate  you  heartily,"  purred  the  Black  Cat,  giving  her 
paw  to  the  White  Cat.  "  But  I  really  must  run  in  now ;  it  is  about 
time  for  the  doctor's  visit,  and  I  wish  to  hear  what  he  says  to-day. 
I'll  be  here  again  to-morrow  morning  if  the  weather  is  good,  and 
tell  you.     Good-bye." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,"  purred  the  White  Cat.  "  I  was  going  to  ask 
you  to  let  me  know,  I  feel  so  interested.  I'll  be  sure  to  be  here. 
Good-bye." 

And  the  White  Cat  trotted  back  to  her  baby  and  their  new 
friend,  while  the  Black  Cat  stole  silently  up  to  Clementine's  door 
to  wait  for  the  coming  of  the  doctor. 

By  and  by  Clementine's  mother  came  out  of  the  room,  and  when 
she  saw  the  Black  Cat  she  stopped  and  stroked  him.  "  Poor 
Douglas  !"  she  said  softly  ;  "  I  do  believe  you  know,  for  you  love 
Clementine  better  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us,  and  she  petted  you 
so  much  that  I  think  you  must  miss  her.  She  is  very  ill,  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  she  is  just  a  little,  little  bit  better  to-day  ;  and  if 
the  doctor  should  think  so  too,  you   shall  see  her  for  a  few  minutes 


138     .  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


this  evening.  But  you  must  keep  quite  still,  and  not  try  to  make 
her  speak  to  you,  for  even  that  much  excitement  might  do  her 
harm."  And,  stroking  Douglas  again,  Clementine's  mother  went 
down  stairs  to  wait  for  the  doctor. 

It  rained  a  little  the  next  morning,  but  the  two  friends  met  on 
the  wall  notwithstanding. 

"  I  was  so  anxious  to  hear  how  Clementine  was  that  I  thought 
I'd  come  on  the  chance  of  your  coming,"  purred  the  White  Cat 
when  they  had  exchanged  "  good-mornings." 

"  I  somehow  thought  you  would  be  here,"  purred  the  Black  Cat, 
"and  I  don't  mind  a  little  wetting  now  and  then  :  it  obliges  one  to 
give  one's  self  such  a  thorough  good  licking  afterward  that  it  is 
good  for  one's  coat.  She's  better — the  mother  thought  so  first, 
and  the  doctor  said  so  when  he  came — and  I've  seen  her !  I'm 
thankful  they  told  me  she  was  better  before  I  saw  her,  for  I  never 
should  have  thought  so  to  look  at  her.  I  could  only  stay  a  minute, 
and  was  obliged  to  keep  very  still.  Her  mother  told  me  about  it 
in  the  morning,  just  after  I  saw  you,  but  she  did  not  take  me  in  till 
just  at  sunset,  because  Clementine  was  asleep  then,  as  she  explain- 
ed to  me.  She  looked  ever  so  much  smaller,  and  her  poor  little 
face  and  hands  were  as  white  as  the  pillow-case.  I  was  almost 
afraid,  for  a  minute,  that  she  was  dead,  but  then  I  saw  that  she  was 
breathing  very  softly  and  regularly.  There  was  a  bunch  of  white 
roses  on  the  window-sill  from  the  bush  she  loves  so  much,  but  she 
really  looked  whiter  than   they  did.     Still,   the  family  seems  very 


TWO     GOOD    FRIENDS. 


I  39 


hopeful  about  her,  and  I  know  they  can  tell  better  than  I  can  ;  so 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  believe  them,  and  her  mother  has  prom- 


II,),  ill 


jJ'lllHl,l.f,,llilllll,,l,|,-,! 


IV 


I 


"CLEMENTINE  WAS  ASLEEP." 

ised  that  I  shall  see  her  again  to-morrow  for  a  few  minutes  when  she 
is  awake." 

"That  is  good  news  indeed,"  purred  the  White  Cat,  looking  very 
much  relieved ;  "  and  I  have  something  to  tell  you  too.  I  have  made 
another  friend.     You   know  we  all  like  a  ramble  in  the  fields  and 


140  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

woods  sometimes,  and  I  was  out  for  one  yesterday  afternoon  : 
nobody  could  be  better  fed  than  I  am,  but  once  in  a  while  I  take  a 
fancy  for  something  I  have  caught  myself,  and  I  did  think  yester- 
day that  I  would  like  a  bird.  I  wanted  a  mouse  too,  for  it  is  high 
time  for  me  to  beyin  teaching  Blossom,  and  field-mice  are  better 
for  practice  than  house-mice.  So  I  went  across  the  large  field 
to  the  wood.  I  was  just  climbing  a  fence  when  I  saw  a  very  fine- 
looking  gray  cat  coming  toward  me.  I  have  met  him  several  times 
in  the  neighborhood  lately,  but  we  had  never  been  introduced,  so  I 
had  not  spoken,  He  was  evidently  hunting  too,  and  almost  under 
his  feet,  crouching  among  the  leaves,  was  a  snipe  which  he  was 
passing  directly  by.  Of  course  I  called  to  him,  and  he  caught  the 
snipe  without  any  trouble,  but  he  insisted  upon  my  accepting  it, 
because,  he  said,  he  should  not  have  caught  it  if  I  had  not  hap- 
pened to  see  it.  He  carried  it  home  for  me,  and  was  most  enter- 
taining all  the  way.  He  had  heard  of  your  exploit,  and  he  asks 
your  permission  to  call." 

"  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  see  him,"  purred  the  Black  Cat,  gra- 
ciously, "  but  I  would  rather  he  should  wait  for  a  few  days,  until  I 
feel  quite  easy  about  Clementine.  You  might  bring  him  some  day 
next  week." 

"Very  well,"  purred  the  White  Cat;  "I'll  tell  him  the  first  time 
I  see  him  again.  And  now  I  must  go.  Be  here  to-morrow  morn- 
ing if  you  can,  for  I  shall  want  to  hear  about  Clementine." 

"  She   spoke   to   me  !"    purred   the   Black   Cat  joyfully   the   next 


'ALMOST   UNDER    HIS    FEET  WAS   A  SNIPE. 


See  Page  140. 


TWO     GOOD    FRIENDS.  1 43 

morning-  as  soon  as  he  was  near  enough  to  the  White  Cat  to 
make  her  hear.  "  She  asked  to  have  me  put  on  the  bed,  and  I  was 
there  nearly  all  the  morning.  Every  little  while  she  would  stroke 
my  head  and  talk  to  me,  and  to-morrow  she  is  to  sit  up." 

"I  am  just  as  glad  as  I  can  be,"  purred  the  White  Cat, 
delightedly,  "  and  as  soon  as  she  is  down  stairs  I  wish  you  would 
take  me  in  to  see  her :  I  feel  as  if  I  must  know  her  after  hearing 
so  much  about  her." 

"I  will,  with  pleasure,"  purred  the  Black  Cat,  "and  if  the  Gray 
Cat  should  turn  out  a  desirable  acquaintance,  we  will  take  him  too. 
Clementine  is  very  fond  of  cats,  and  no  doubt  it  would  please  her 
to  meet  a  new  one." 

So  now  yoit  understand  how  it  was,  but  you  cannot  imagine 
Clementine's  astonishment,  the  first  day  that  her  reclining-chair  was 
wheeled  out  upon  the  piazza,  when  a  solemn  procession  of  three 
cats,  Black,  White,  and  Gray,  marched  up  the  walk  and  sat  down 
in  front  of  her  chair.  The  Black  Cat  tried  to  make  her  under- 
stand that  he  had  brought  the  other  two  to  call  on  her.  I  am 
afraid  he  did  not  quite  succeed,  but  she  was  very  polite  and  sent 
for  some  cream  for  them,  and  they  went  away  quite  satisfied.  And 
when  she  was  well  again,  and  could  walk  once  more  about  the  old 
garden,  she  was  often  joined  by  one  or  other  of  them,  and  some- 
times by  all  three. 


TWO   WAYS. 


■•••""."•••■jy  VERY  gloomy-faced  little    dog  was  Mopsy  as  he 

WgfmM^.1  sat  in  the  door  of  his  kennel  one  frosty  morning  and 
f^le^rS^l!  wat;ched  the  sparrows  holding  high  festival  over  the 
g|BSja|i  :  breakfast  he  had  scornfully  and  without  any  thanks 
'  declined.  He  was  in  disgrace,  he  was  separated 
from  his  beloved  Polly,  and,  for  the  first  time  in  six  months  or 
more,  he  was  chained.  He — the  little  petted  dog,  who  had  his  own 
special  stool  by  the  fire,  his  own  blue  china  dish  on  the  zinc  behind 
the  stove,  his  own  little  feather  bed  in  a  corner  of  Polly's  room — 
had  been  carried  out  by  the  tall  waiter,  in  spite  of  indignant  growls 
and  howls,  and  chained  to  an  old  kennel  in  front  of  the  coach- 
house!  He  would  not  admit  to  himself  that  he  had  first  behaved 
very  badly  indeed.  No  ;  he  was  keeping  himself  angry  by  growl- 
ing to  the  sparrows  :  "  What  did  Polly  mean,  then,  by  taking  in 
that  cur,  and  expecting  me  to  treat  him  as  if  he  were  my  equal  ? 
It  would  have  been  bad  enough  if  he  had  been  a  decent,  well-bred 
dog  ;  even  then  Polly  would  have  been  giving  him  half  the  love 
that  belongs  to  me.  But  a  creature  like  that — a  mongrel,  a  dog 
who  does  not  even  bark  grammatically,  who  makes  an  unpleasant 
noise  when  he  eats,  and  licks  his  plate  when  he  has  finished  as  if 

144 


TWO     WAYS.  145 


he  never  expected  to  have  another  good  meal, — it  is  intolerable  ! 
And  such  a  fuss  as  they  all  made  over  him  just  because  he  had  had 
a  tin  kettle  tied  to  his  tail  and  been  chased  a  little  !  I  dare  say  he 
would  have  bitten  the  string  in  two  if  Polly  had  not  cut  it,  and  the 
manner  in  which  he  dashed  into  our  grounds  from  the  road  was 
highly  impertinent — howling,  too,  at  the  top  of  his  voice !  It 
would  have  served  him  no  more  than  right  if  he  had  been  shot  for 
a  mad  dog.  But  no  ;  they  must  all  go  on  their  knees,  Polly  and 
Tom  and  the  cook  and  Nurse,  and  even  master  and  mistress  ;  and 
it  was,  '  Oh,  the  poor  little  dog !'  '  Oh,  the  dear  little  dog !'  till  I 
was  perfectly  sick  of  hearing  them.  Little,  indeed  !  He's  ever  so 
much  longer  than  I  am,  if  he  is  narrower.  And  if  they  think 
chaining  me  up  in  this  wicked,  barbarous  fashion  will  make  me 
civil  to  him,  they  are  vastly  mistaken,  that's  all.  No  ;  I  shall  just 
stay  here,  and  not  eat  anything,  and  pine  away  and  die  ;  then  they 
will  be  filled  with  remorse.  And  if  that  cur  doesn't  want  his  ugly 
head  taken   off,   he'd   better  keep  out  of   my   way." 

Now,  this  was  Mopsy's  view  of  it.  The  real  truth  was,  that  he 
had  behaved  shockingly.'  The  "cur,"  as  he  called  him,  but  whom 
Polly  had  named  "  Stray,"  had  merely  attempted  to  finish  the  break- 
fast which  Mopsy  had  left  and  did  not  want  at  all.  Polly  had  filled 
both  their  plates  with  mush  and  milk  before  she  would  sit  down  to 
her  own  breakfast,  and  Mopsy,  who  smelt  mutton-chops,  had  eaten 
a  few  mouthfuls  of  his  and  then  turned  away  with  a  sniff,  while 
poor  Stray,  to  whom   plenty  to  eat  was  a  novelty  and  a  luxury,  had 


146  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


thought  it  a  breakfast  fit  for  the  king  of  dogs,  and,  having  licked 
his  own  plate  clean,  had  quietly  begun  on  Mopsy's  despised  break- 
fast. Mopsy  was  a  spoiled  little  dog — there  was  no  mistake  about 
that — and  he  flew  at  the  stranger  savagely,  and,  being  stronger  and 
heavier,  through  good  care  and  feeding,  than  the  other  was,  he  soon 
had  him  howling  on  the  floor,  while  he,  Mopsy,  stood  over  him,  giv- 
ing him  a  savage   nip  whenever  he  tried   to  get  up. 

Polly,  who  always  took  the  part  of  the  oppressed  even  when  she 
loved  the  oppressor,  turned  with  a  great  deal  of  dignity  to  Jenks, 
the  tall  waiter,  and  said,  "  Jenks,  you  will  please  carry  Mopsy  out 
to  the  dog-house,  and  put  some  clean  straw  in  it,  and  fasten  his 
collar  to  the  chain.  I  will  let  him  loose  again  when  he  promises 
to  behave  properly  to  poor  Stray." 

So  Jenks,  not  without  some  fear  of  being  snapped  at,  gathered 
Mopsy  up  in  his  long  arms  and  did  as  his  little  mistress  requested ; 
and  Mopsy  was  so  breathless  with  astonishment  and  indignation 
that  it  never  occurred  to  him,  until  after  he  was  chained  and  by 
himself,  that  he  might  have  nipped  Jenks  too.  It  would  have  been 
the  basest  ingratitude,  for  Jenks  was  a  very  patient  man,  and 
always  did  what  was  politely  asked  of  him.  He  had  even  helped 
Polly  to  wash  Stray,  or  rather  had  washed  him  while  Polly  looked 
on  and  thought  she  was  helping,  and  had  kindly  said  that  "  when 
the  poor  misused  beast  fattened  up  a  bit  he  wouldn't  be  a  bad- 
looking  dog,  and  might  be  trained  to  follow  the  carriage." 

This  had  greatly  delighted  Polly,  as  kind-hearted  Jenks  knew  it 


"POLL\    LIKED   IRONING AND   SHE   DID   IT   WITH    ALL   HER   MIGHT." 

See  Page  149. 


TWO     WA  VS.  1 49 


would.  Mopsy  always  went  in  Polly's  lap  when  the  family  took  a 
drive,  so  that  the  new  dog  would  not  be  interfering  with  his  priv- 
ileges by  following  the  carriage.  Polly  invested  fifteen  cents  in  a 
blue  soup-plate  for  the  new  dog;  it  was  only  "  willow-  ware,"  and 
Mopsy's  was  real  china.  "  So  you  see,  papa,"  Polly  argued, 
"  Mopsy  can't  possibly  be  jealous,  and  yet  this  willow-ware  plate 
must  be  so  much  better  than  anything  poor  Stray  has  had  before 
that  he  will  be  quite  pleased." 

So  you  may  judge  of  Polly's  disappointment  and  indignation 
when  Mopsy  first  refused  to  say  a  friendly  word  to  the  new  dog, 
and  then  flew  at  him  in  the  disgraceful  manner  of  which  I  have 
just  told  you. 

It  was  holiday-t'me,  so  there  was  no  school  to  divert  Polly's  mind 
from  her  pet's  bad  behavior. 

"What  would  you  do,  Nurse,  if  you  were  me  this  morning?" 
she  asked,   a  little  disconsolately,  after  breakfast. 

"  I  think  I'd  have  a  family-wash,  deary,"  said  Nurse  gravely. 
"I've  noticed  that  nearly  all  your  children's  clothes  are  in  the 
basket,   and   you   couldn't   have   a   better   day   for   drying." 

"That's  the  very  thing  !"  said  Polly  joyfully;  and  forthwith  the 
playroom  was  rummaged  for  every  garment  and  sheet  and  pillow- 
case and  table-cloth  belonging  to  Polly's  family  of  eight,  and  by 
the  time  the  last  "  piece  "  was  hung  out  the  first  ones  were  dry 
and  ready  for  sprinkling ;  and  the  ironing  was  not  begun  until 
after  the   early  dinner,  so   large  was  the  wash   that  week.     Polly 


150  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

liked  ironing;  she  "bore  on"  hard,  and  smoothed  out  the  pieces 
first  with  her  fingers,  and  did  it,  as  she  did  most  things,  with  all 
her  might ;  so  for  a  little  while  she  was  seriously  happy  over  her 
ironing-table,  and  almost  forgot  the  sad  affair  of  the  morning. 

Meanwhile,  Stray  was  nearly  as  unhappy  as  Mopsy  was.  He 
had,  without  in  the  least  intending  it,  brought  discord  into  a  fam- 
ily which  had  shown  him  more  kindness  than  he  had  before  ex- 
perienced in  his  short  and  miserable  life.  He  went  as  near  Mop- 
sy's  prison  as  he  dared,  to  be  greeted  by  savage  growls.  Then 
he  wandered  disconsolately  about  the  grounds,  trying  to  make  up 
his  mind  to  run  away  and  be  once  more  a  vagabond  upon  the 
face  of  the  earth. 

"  I  should  be  no  worse  off  than  I  was  before  these  lovely  people 
took  me  in,"  he  argued  with  himself;  "in  fact,  I  should  be  better 
off,  for  although  I  am  still  thin,  I  don't  look  starved  any  more,  and 
I  am  nice  and  clean  now.  If  I  can  only  manage  to  sit  up  on  my 
hind  legs,  as  Mopsy  does,  and  beg  at  kitchen-doors,  I  think  I 
can  pick  up  enough  to  keep  me  from  starving.  But  oh,  it  is  so 
pleasant  to  have  a  real  home  and  to  be  petted  and  spoken  to 
gently !  How  can  I  go  away  from  it  all  when  I  have  never  had 
it  before  ?" 

He  loitered  back  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  coach-house,  and, 
in  spite  of  his  trouble,  became  very  much  interested  in  watching 
Polly's  ducks.  There  was  a  family  of  four  funny  little  yellow 
ducklings,  and  two  of  them  had  taken   hold  of  opposite  ends  of  a 


TWO     WA  VS. 


151 


long,  fat  worm.  They  pulled  and  tugged :  neither  would  let  go  ; 
and  the  poor  worm,  being  tough,  did  not  settle  the  difficulty  by 
coming  in  two. 


"THEY    PULLED   AND   TUGGED,   AND    NEITHER    WOULD    LET   GO." 

Finally,  when  both  ducklings  were  out  of  breath  with  the  strug- 
gle, one  let  go  his  hold  long  enough  to  say,  "I  found  it  first.  You 
just  give  it  to  me   now !" 


152  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

And  the  other  one,  not  stopping  to  think,  opened  his  bill  and, 
said,   "I  saw  it  as  soon  as  you  did.      You  just  give  it  to  me!" 

And  while  they  were  saying  this  the  worm  very  wisely  slipped 
into  a  convenient  hole,  and  when  they  looked  down  for  him  he 
wasn't  there ! 

Both  ducklings  looked  excessively  foolish.  Then  one  sidled  up 
to  the  other,  and  said  meekly,   "  I'm  sorry :  let's   be   friends." 

"So  am  I:  let's,"  said  the  other;  and  then  they  both  went  to 
work  together  to  dig  out  the  worm,  and  when  they  found  him  they 
divided  him  equally  between  them. 

'Ah,"  said  the  poor  dog  to  himself,  sorrowfully,  "if  only  Mopsy 
would  come  to  an  agreement  like  that,  how  pleasant  it  would  be !" 

He  wandered  into  the  stable,  for  he  felt  a  great  admiration  for 
the  beautiful  gray  horse  with  his  kind  eyes  and  gracefully-arched 
neck,  and  he  thought,  "  If  I  could  only  screw  up  my  courage  to  con- 
sult him  about  it — he  looks  so  wise — I've  no  doubt  he  could  think 
of  some  way  in  which  I  could  win  Mopsy  over  to  be  at  least  civil 
to   me." 

Puck,  the  large  gray  cat,  who  was  very  intimate  with  Prince,  the 
horse,  was  walking  round  the  edge  of  Prince's  watering-trough —  . 
which  was  not  a  common  trough  at  all,  but  a  round  marble  basin — 
rubbing  against  his  nose  every  time  she  came  round  to  where  it 
was,  while  he  looked  gently  down  at  his  small  friend.  They  did 
not  see  poor  Stray,  who  lay  meekly  down  under  the  manger,  and 
they  went  on  talking. 


;■■;* 


,!?|7i,l!,||'!||l|l|llPi!fi'  5f:  * *('*lffl!*W?H 


"PUCK,  THE  CAT,  WAS  WALKING  ROUND   PRINCE'S  WATERING-TROUGH." 

See  page  152. 


TWO     WA  VS.  155 


"  It  seems  so  strange  to  me  now,"  said  Puck,  "  that  I  did  not  like, 
you  at  first.  I  feel  ashamed  whenever  I  think  about  how  cross  and 
ugly  I  was,  and  how  I  would  have  scratched  you  if  I  only  had  not 
been  afraid.  And  I  put  up  my  back  and  hissed  at  you  every  time 
I  came  near  you,  but  you  always  smiled  down  at  me  so  kindly  that 
after  a  while  I  began  to  think  I  must  be  a  very  bad-tempered  cat ; 
and  then  1  felt  as  if  I  would  like  to  be  friends  with  you,  but  I  was 
afraid  you  would  not  wish  to  be,  after  the  dreadful  way  in  which  I 
had  behaved  ;  and  you  don't  know  how  I  trembled  that  first  time  I 
jumped  up  on  the  manger  and  begged  your  pardon.  And  you 
were  so  good  to  me — then  and  ever  since — you  dear,  beautiful, 
good-tempered   horse  !" 

"I  knew  you  could  be  conqnered  by  kindness,"  said  Prince  gen- 
tly ;  "  I  never  met  any  one  yet  who  could  not ;"  and  he  rubbed  Puck's 
head  with  his  nice  soft  nose. 

Stray  walked  out  of  the  stable  quite  cheerfully.  "  There  is  no 
use  in  my  bothering  Mr.  Prince,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  know  what 
to  do  now,  and  I'll  do  it.  Perhaps  then  I  need  not  leave  this  lovely 
new  home  ;  surely  there  is  room  enough  in  it,  and  in  dear  little  Miss 
Polly's  warm  heart,  for  both  Mopsy  and  me." 

So,  patiently  and  cheerfully,  clay  after  day,  Stray  went  as  near 
Mopsy's  prison  as  he  dared,  and  offered  to  run  errands  for  Mopsy, 
to  sit  and  talk  with  him,  to  bring  him  all  the  best  bones  that  he  him- 
self should  have  given  to  him  ;  in  short,  to  do  anything  whatever 
that  Mopsy  could  think  of.     At  first,  Mopsy  only  growled,  and  when 


156  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

Polly  came  to  visit  him  and  cry  over  him,  as  she  did  two  or  three 
times  every  day,  he  was  sullenly  silent.  But  little  by  little  he  grew 
ashamed.  The  poor  patient  dog's  wistful,  loving  face,  Polly's  affec- 
tionate reproaches  and  assurances  that  she  could  love  another  dog 
without  unloving  him,  were  having  their  effect ;  and  one  day,  when 
Polly  came  to  have  a  talk  with  him,  she  found,  to  her  great  joy,  the 
two  dogs  sitting  close  together,  engaged  in  friendly  conversation. 

At  once  the  chain  was  loosed  from  Mopsy's  collar,  and  he  and 
Stray  went  bounding  before  her  to  the  house.  And  when  supper- 
time  came,  Mopsy  proved  the  sincerity  of  his  repentance  by  insist- 
ing that  Stray  should  eat  his  supper  out  of  the  blue  china  dish, 
while  he,   Mopsy,  ate  his  from  the  willow-ware. 

"And  now,"  said  Polly  joyously  when  the  early  supper  was  over, 
"  we  will  have  our  concert  again. — Come,  sister,  come,  Baby,  come, 
Mopsy,  and  let  Stray  hear  you  sing." 

The  joke  was,  that  the  baby  and  Mopsy  both  thought  they  could 
sing.  So,  while  the  older  sister  played  a  little  tune  on  the  piano, 
the  baby,  seated  on  a  stool,  and  Mopsy,  perched  up  in  the  great 
arm-chair,  each  warbled,  greatly  to  his  own  satisfaction,  as  long  as 
the   sister  would  play. 

And  Stray,  who  had  not  a  jealous  bone  in  his  body,  sat  listening 
with  open  mouth  and  a  look  in  his  eyes  which  seemed  to  say,  "  How 
beautiful !  how  touching  !     What  a  genius  is  here  !" 

And  Polly  and  her  father,  standing  behind  the  group,  where  they 
could  see  it  all,  laughed  until  they  nearlv  cried. 


"THE    BABY,  SEATED  ON   A  STOCK,,  AND  MOPSV.  IN   A  CHAIR,  EACH   SANG." 

See  Page  156. 


THE    MAY-QUEEN. 


COME,  little  children,  come  away, 
Follow   your   queen,    the    Queen    of 
May, 
Where  the  young  leaves  are  spring- 
ing ; 
Crown     her    with    flowers,    raise    her 

throne 
Here  where   the  grass   has  greenest 
grown — 
Here,  where  the  birds  are  singing. 


Hail  her  with  merry  song  and  shout- 
Never  a  cross  word,  never  a  pout, 

Come  into  all  your  playing. 
Songs  like  the  singing  of  the  birds, 
Happiest  laughter  and  loving  words, 

Take  as  you  go  a-Maying. 


Winter  is  over,  storm  and  cloud, 
Blustering  March  winds  rude  and  lc 
Showers  that  spoil  the  play-time. 


159 


i6o 


HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


"SCEPTRE  AND  TRAIN  TO  GRACE  YOUR  QUEEK. 

Where  was  so  lately  snow  and  sleet, 
Bright  little  crocuses,  violets  sweet, 
Tell  of  the  happy  May-time. 


THE    MAY    QUEEN. 


161 


Sceptre  and  train  to  grace  your  Queen- 
Happiest  monarch  ever  seen, 

Reigning  for  one  bright  play-day  : 


"SEEK  FOR  YOUR  QUEEN  WHERE  HIDDEN  LIE.' 

Flowers  to  strew  along  her  way — 
Surely  the  little  Queen  must  say, 
"Never  was  fairer  May  Day." 


11 


I  62 


HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


Seek  for  your  Queen  where  hidden  lie 
Beds  of  arbutus,  pure  and  shy, 

Fit  for  a  May  Queen's  bowers. 
It  is  so  sweet,  the  gentle  wind 
Helps  you  its  hiding-place  to  find, 

Fairest  of  all  May  flowers. 

Gather  the  sweetness  as  you  go  ; 
Store  it  within  your  hearts,  and  so 

Keep  every  moment's  pleasure  ; 
Then,  when  the  winter  comes,  this  day 
Shall  be  for  the  merry  Queen  of  May 

And  each  of  her  maids  a  treasure. 


MRS.    CLUCK'S    CHILDREN. 


MRS.  CLUCK  was  a  very  careful  mother: 
so  careful  and  so  much  to  be  depended 
upon  was  she  that  the  farmer's  wife  al- 
ways gave  her  the  best  eggs  and  the 
ones  which  she  was  most  anxious  to  have  hatched.  You  will  think, 
perhaps,  that  this  made  her  vain,  but  it  did  not  at  all ;  she  grew 
more  and  more  anxious  as  she  found  how  much  was  expected 
of  her,  and  whenever  she  had  a  brood  of  young  chickens  nearly 
fretted  and  scolded  her  feathers  off.  So  you  may  think  what  a 
state  of  mind  she  was  in  last  spring  when  out  of  a  "setting"  of 
fifteen  eggs — eggs  for  which  the  farmer's  wife  had  sent  a  long 
way  and  paid  a  high  price,  as  she  took  care  to  tell  poor  Mrs. 
Cluck  when  she  set  her  on  them — only  twelve  hatched.  Perhaps 
you  will  think  that  this  was  doing  pretty  well;  and  so  it  would 
have  been  for  an  ordinary  hen,  but  not  for  Mrs.  Cluck.  You  see, 
the  price  of  being  famous  is  being  obliged  to  live  up  to  one's 
character  or  else  suffer  the  mortification  of  being  considered  a 
failure. 

The   misfortune  of  wasting  three  high-priced  eggs   so  affected 
Mrs.  Cluck's  temper  that  this  particular  brood  of  chickens  had  a 


163 


1 64  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

hard  time  of  it.  They  were  scolded  and  screamed  at  if  they  ven- 
tured two  feet  away  from  their  mother,  until  the  meek  ones  droop- 
ed and  the  high-spirited  ones  answered  back  ;  and  one  very  imper- 
tinent little  cock,  who  thought  he  knew  pretty  much  everything, 
adopted  the  plan  of  standing  on  her  back  and  tickling  her  through 
her  feathers. 

"  I'm  up  here,  all  safe,"  he  would  say,  making  a  face  at  the  others 
as  he  spoke. 

This  was  bad  enough,  but  I  really  think  one  of  the  little  hens 
was  worse.  She  lost  all  spirit  and  what  little  sense  she  had,  and 
used  to  sit  about  with  her  mouth  wide  open,  looking  as  if  she 
had  never  had  an  idea  in  her  head. 

Somehow,  this  seemed  to  exasperate  Mrs.  Cluck  more  than  all 
the  impudence  of  the  little  cock,  and  she  even  threatened  that 
she  would  tie  up  the  poor  little  hen's  head  to  make  her  keep  her 
mouth  shut. 

Things  were  in  this  unpleasant  state  when  it  was  announced  in 
the  chicken-yard  that  a  very  fine  young  cock  was  coming  to  give 
crowing-lessons.  All  the  little  cocks  in  Mrs.  Cluck's  family  crowd- 
ed round  her,  clamoring,  "Oh,  mother,  may  we  take  lessons?  Oh, 
do  please  let  us !  The  old  cock  here  has  such  a  dreadfully  old- 
fashioned  crow !" 

"Indeed,  you  may  not,"  said  Mrs.  Cluck,  crossly.  "I  can't  leave 
your  sisters  alone  while  I  take  you  to  any  crowing-lessons.  There's 
a  rumor  of  a  weazel  being  somewhere  about,  and  I  saw  a  hawk 


MRS.     CLUCK'S    CHILDREN. 


165 


"ONE  VERY    IMPERTINENT  LITTLE  COCK   STOOD  ON   HER   BACK." 

myself  only  yesterday.     You'll  learn   to  crow  fast  enough,  without 
any  teaching." 


I  66  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

The  little  cocks  looked  very  sulky,  all  but  the  impudent  one : 
he  merely  looked  thoughtful. 

And  the  next  morning,  when  the  young  cock  came  to  the  stone 
on  which  he  was  going  to  stand  to  give  his  lessons,  he  found  five 
ridiculous  little  chickens  with  scarcely  a  pin-feather  apiece,  and 
one  little  yellow  duckling.  And  the  best  of  the  joke  was,  that 
one  of  the  five  chickens  was  the  poor  little  silly  hen !  The  bad 
little  cock,  who  had  come  without  leave  or  license,  had  wanted 
somebody  to  share  the  blame  with  him  when  he  went  back  to 
his  mother,  and  he  had  persuaded  his  sister  that  there  was  no 
reason  why  a  hen  should  not  learn  to  crow  as  well  as  any 
rooster. 

The  professor  of  crowing  was  not  at  all  pleased  either  with  the 
size  of  his  class  or  the  age  of  his  scholars,  but  he  was  a  cock  of 
his  word  ;  so  he  gave  them  a  good  hour's  instruction,  only  being 
careful  to  ascertain  before  he  began  that  they  had  each  brought 
him  the  fee  agreed  upon — a  fine  fat  worm  or  a  dozen  kernels 
of  corn.  He  told  the  yellow  duckling,  honestly,  that  it  was  quite 
impossible  that  she  should  ever  learn  to  crow,  and  that  he  would 
advise  her  not  to  join  the  class  ;  but  she  scratched  her  head  and 
said  she  didn't  see  why,  and  was  so  angry  about  it  that  he  said 
it  was  no  concern  of  his,  and  let  her  stay.  Of  course,  she  did 
not  learn  to  crow,  but,  if  you  will  believe  it,  that  poor  little  hen 
did  !  Whether  it  was  because  her  mouth  was  already  open  when 
the  lesson   began,  or  because  she  did  exactly  what  the  professoi 


'THE   PROFESSOR   OF  CROWING  GAVE  THEM   AN    HOUR'S    LESSON/ 


See  Page  i 


MRS.     CLUCK'S    CHILDREN.  1 69 

told  her,  I  don't   know,  but  she  actually  crowed  better  when  the 
lesson  was  over  than  any  of  the  little  cocks. 

And  when  she  and  her  naughty  brother  reached  home,  and  she, 
thinking  to  please  her  mother  with  her  new  accomplishment, 
burst  out  with  a  weak  but  decided  little  crow,  Mrs.  Cluck  was 
so  perfectly  indignant  to  think  that  a  daughter  of  hers  should 
turn  out  a  crowing  hen  that  she  quite  forgot  to  scold  the  cock, 
who  really  was  at  the  bottom  of  all  the  mischief.  And  she 
threatened  the  little  hen  with  such  dire  punishment  if  ever  she 
should  be  heard  to  crow  again  that  that  no  doubt  would  have 
been  the  last  of  it  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  cock.  Whenever 
he  and  his  sister  were  far  enough  away  for  their  mother  not  to 
hear,  he  persuaded  the  little  hen  to  crow,  until  she  was  known 
all  through  the  chicken-yard  as  "  the  crowing  hen  ;"  and  it  even 
reached  the  ears  of  the  farmer's  wife,  who  was  very  much  an- 
noyed, and  said  solemnly,  and  without  the  slightest  regard  for 
Brown's   Grammar,   which   she   had  studied   in   her   early   youth, 

"  '  Whistling  girls  and  crowing  hens 
Never  comes  to  no  good  ends/  " 

As  the  two  grew  up  things  became  worse  and  worse.  The  cock 
seemed  to  take  a  perfect  delight  in  leading  the  poor  simple  hen 
into  all  sorts  of  mischief,  and  then  leaving  her  to  take  the  scolding 
or  punishment  that  followed.  He  had  great  faith  in  his  own  clever- 
ness, and  he  made  use  of  the  little  hen's  admiration  of  him  to 
teach  her  a  great  many  wrong  things,  such  as  scratching  up  gar- 


170  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


den-seed,  and  eating  the  ripe  tomatoes,  and  roosting  on  the  front 
porch  instead  of  in  the  chicken-house ;  in  short,  everything  he 
could  think  of  that  he  knew  was  forbidden.  He  did  not  imagine 
that  the  farmer's  wife  was  watching  him  until  one  dreadfully  rainy 
morning,  when  he  and  his  sister  and  a  few  more  of  the  chickens 
had  taken  refuge  under  a  bench  by  the  kitchen-door.  There  had 
been  a  long  drought,  and  the  great  rain-water  cask  had  begun  to 
split  with  the  heat,  so  that  now,  as  the  rain  poured  into  it,  little 
waterfalls  came  bursting  out  between  the  staves ;  and  under  one  of 
these  cascades  the  mischievous  cock  persuaded  the  poor  silly  hen 
to  stand  till  she  was  soaked  through.  She  did  not  like  it  at  all, 
and  squawked  and  danced  about  like  a  wild  Indian,  but  he  kept 
saying,  "  It'll  make  your  feathers  grow,  dear,  and  perhaps  a  fine 
comb,   like  mine,   on   top  of   your  head." 

The  farmer's  wife  was  standing  at  the  kitchen-door  watching  the 
rain,  and  when  she  saw  the  foolish  hen  standing  under  the  water- 
fall, and  heard  her  squawking  and  screaming,  and  saw  the  cock 
enjoying  it  so  much  that  he  forgot  to  go  under  the  bench  out  of 
the  rain,  she  turned  to  her  daughter,  and  said,  "  There's  that  simple 
hen  again  !  She  doesn't  even  know  enough  to  go  in  when  it  rains ; 
and  that's  the  cock  who  is  always  in  mischief.  You  catch  them 
both  to-night,  Sally,  after  they've  gone  to  roost:  we'll  put  them 
up  for  a  couple  of  weeks  to  fatten,  and  have  them  for  your  father's 
birthday.  That  hen's  too  foolish  to  live,  and  the  cock's  altogether 
too   smart." 


MKS.     CLUCK'S    CHILDREN. 


173 


So,  two  weeks  from  that  day  the  mischievous  cock  and  the  silly 
hen  were  simply  a  pair  of  roast  chickens,  and  Mrs.  Cluck  said 
solemnly  to  the  rest  of  her  children,  "  You  can't  all  be  clever, 
but  if  you  are  foolish,  you  can  follow  a  good  example  as  well  as 
you  can  a  bad  one ;  and  if  you  are  really  clever,  your  clever- 
ness  will   keep   you   out  of   mischief   and   out  of   disgrace." 


DARING. 


)UT  I  don't  see  why  we  must  give  up 
Don,  mamma,"  said  little  Annie  Cam- 
eron, half  pouting  and  half  crying,  as 
she  fed  Don  from  her  hand  for  the 
last  time.  The  sale  was  to  take  place 
that  day :  poor  Don  was  only  "  Lot  90  " 
now,  instead  of  a  petted  and  spoiled 
favorite.  It  was  no  wonder  that  Annie 
felt  like  crying,  but  it  grieved  her  moth- 
er to  see  the  pout. 
"  I  thought  papa  explained  it  very  fully  to  you  last  night,  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Cameron  gently.  "You  know  we  must  choose  between 
being  separated  from  him  all  the  week  except  Sunday,  and  leave- 
ing  this  place,  which  we  all  love,  for  a  home  in  town,  where  he  can 
come  every  night;  and  surely  you  do  not  love  this  house  and  Don 
better  than  you  love  your  father?" 

"You  know  I  don't,  mamma,"  said  Annie  indignantly,  "but  I 
think  papa  might  put  Don  to  board  somewhere :  you  heard  him 
say  that  if  everything  went  well  we  might  be  able  to  have  a 
country   home   again    in    three   or   four   years." 


"SHE    FEU    DON    FROM    HER    HAND    FOR    THE    LAST   TIME."  See  Page  :74. 


DARING.  I  7J 


"  He  cannot  afford  to  pay  board  for  Don,  as  I  think  you  know," 
replied  Mrs.  Cameron  ;  "  and  he  did  his  very  best  to  find  some 
trustworthy  person  who  would  be  willing  to  keep  Don  for  the 
sake  of  using  him,  before  he  offered  him  for  sale.  But  you  must 
say  good-bye  to  him  now,  and  come  with  me  to  the  station  :  it  is 
almost  time  for  our  train,  and  quite  time  for  people  to  begin  to 
come  to   the  sale,  and  I   wish  to  go  before  any  one   comes." 

The  good-bye  was  said  with  many  tears  and  kisses.  Don  was  a 
remarkably  gentle  and  affectionate  horse,  and  what  made  the  part- 
ing particularly  hard  was  the  fact  that  Annie  had  just  begun  riding 
him.  Before  they  knew  that  it  would  be  necessary  to  leave  the 
country  home  Mrs.  Cameron  had  made  Annie  a  pretty  riding-dress, 
and  Mr.  Cameron  was  teaching  her  to  ride.  She  had  not  yet  gone 
outside  their  own  grounds,  but  she  was  hoping  soon  to  take  a  "  real 
ride  "  on  the  road  with  her  father,  and  the  removal  to  a  city  home 
and  the  parting  from  Don  were  bitter  trials.  She  did  not  consider 
that  her  mother  was  giving  up  quite  as  much  in  making  the  change 
as  she  was,  and  that  her  regrets  were  altogether  selfish. 

She  was  an  only  child,  and  had  been  ill  a  good  deal ;  this  had 
caused  her  to  be  indulged  much  more  than  she  would  otherwise 
have  been,  and  she  was  rapidly  growing  both  selfish  and  exacting. 

The   new   home   was   a  very   pleasant   one,   situated   in   a   large 

country-town  which  had  not  yet  begun  to  call  itself  a  city.     The 

house  was  cheerful  and  comfortable,  and  there  was  a  yard  which 

almost  amounted  to  a  garden  behind  it,  while  a  small  lawn  in  front 
12 


178  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

and  at  the  sides  removed  it  a  little  from  the  street  and  from  the 
neighboring  houses.  Annie  found  some  little  pleasure  in  helping 
her  mother  to  arrange  the  familiar  furniture  in  the  unfamiliar 
rooms,  but  when  this  was  done,  and  her  own  possessions  had  been 
bestowed  to  the  best  advantage  in  the  pleasant  little  room  allotted 
her,  she  fretted  and  pined  for  the  country  home  in  a  manner  which 
greatly  distressed  her  mother. 

The  move  had  been  made  in  the  early  summer,  and  Mrs.  Cam- 
eron, who  dearly  loved  flowers,  tried  to  interest  Annie  in  the  some- 
what neglected  flower-beds  and  shrubs  about  the  house ;  but  Annie 
declared  that  there  was  not  room  enough  to  make  anything  worth 
while,  and  what  little  help  she  gave  her  mother  was  given  reluc- 
tantly and  ungraciously,  so  that  Mrs.  Cameron  was  quite  surprised 
one  day  when  Annie  came  running  briskly  in  from  the  yard  with 
a  flushed  and  cheerful  face,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  mamma,  I've  made  a 
friend  !  Such  a  dear  little  girl  lives  next  door !  We've  been  talk- 
ing over  the  wall,  and  she  is  going  to  ask  her  mother  to  let  her 
come  and  see  me  this  afternoon  ;  and  may  I  ask  her  to  stay  to 
tea  ?" 

"I  would  rather  see  her  first,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron  gently. 
"  You  know  I  shall  be  delighted  for  you  to  have  a  little  companion 
if  I  find  her  a  suitable  one  for  you,  but  the  people  in  this  neighbor- 
hood are  perfect  strangers  to  us,  and  it  would  be  awkward  for  you 
to  be  obliged  to  draw  back  if  she  should  not  turn  out  just  what 
you  think  her  now." 


DARING. 


179 


"  But,  indeed,  mamma,"  said  Annie  positively,  "  she's  as  nice  as 
she  can  be.  I  have  been  talking  with  her  for  an  hour,  and  I  kept 
thinking  all   the   time  how   much  you'd   like   her." 


■•WE'VE  BEEN   TALKING  OVER   THE   WALL." 

"I  hope  I  shall,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron,  "and  if  I  do,  you  shall 
spend  as  much  time  with  her  as  you  can.  Did  she  tell  you  her 
name?" 


l8o  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


"She  said  it  was  Ada  Hebbard,"  replied  Annie,  a  little  sullenly, 
"and  that  her  mamma  meant  to  call  on  you  very  soon." 

"  I  hope  she  will  do  so,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron,  "  if  she  is  the  lady 
who  lives  on  our  right  hand,  and  whom  I  have  seen  passing  sev- 
eral times :  she  has  a  very  pleasant  face." 

"  Then  I  may  ask  Ada  to  tea  ?"  said  Annie  eagerly. 

"Dear  child,"  said  her  mother,  "you  will  be  much  happier,  and 
so  shall  I,  when  you  have  learned  '  to  take  no  for  an  answer.'  I 
must  see  your  little  friend  before  I  allow  you  to  become  so  inti- 
mate with  her." 

Mrs.  Hebbard  herself  called  that  afternoon,  bringing  little  Ada 
with  her.  She  was  gentle  and  refined,  and  Mrs.  Cameron  felt 
entirely  satisfied  before  the  visit  was  over  that  Annie  had  found 
a  safe  and  pleasant  companion.  Her  only  fear  was  that  Annie's 
rather  imperious  disposition  would  take  advantage  of  Ada's  amia- 
bility. 

The  little  girls  became  almost  inseparable,  and  Annie  was  quite 
inconsolable  when  she  learned  that  Mrs.  Hebbard  and  Ada  were 
going  to  the  seashorcfor  July  and  August. 

After  they  went  she  fretted  and  grieved  until  she  was  really  ill, 
and  her  father,  who  feared  that  the  change  from  her  country  home 
was  injuring  her,  proposed  to  Mrs.  Cameron  that  she  should  take 
Annie  to  the  quiet  boarding-place  where  Mrs.  Hebbard  and  Ada 
had  gone,  and  leave  her  for  a  week  in  charge  of  Mrs.  Hebbard, 
who  had  kindly  suggested  the  plan   before  she  went.     This  was 


DARING. 


181 


finally  decided  upon,  and  Annie  was  at  once  wildly  happy.     Her 
mother    took    her   to    Mrs.    Hebbard's    boarding-place,    and,    after 


"AN  OLD  SAILOR   WAS  TALKING  TO  ONE  OF  THE  SUMMER   BOARDERS." 

spending  a  pleasant  day  on  the  beach,  arranged  to  come  again 
in  ten  days  with  Mr.  Cameron,  and,  after  staying  a  week  at  the 
seashore.   brin<r  her  little  dauo-hter  home. 


152  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


Annie's  weariness  and  listlessness  were  soon  forgotten.  The 
daily  bath  and  walk  on  the  sunny  pier,  the  interest  of  watching  the 
arrival  and  departure  of  the  great  steamboat  which  carried  excur- 
sionists to  and  fro,  the  hunts  for  shells  and  sea-weed,  made  the 
days  seem  only  too  short. 

One  breezy  day,  when  she  and  Ada,  with  arms  affectionately 
linked,  were  walking  back  and  forth  upon  the  pier,  they  stopped 
to  listen  to  an  old  sailor  who  was  talking  to  one  of  the  summer 
boarders,  who  sometimes  employed  him  to  take  them  fishing  and 
sailing. 

"  She's  a  brave  little  girl,"  he  was  saying.  "  When  those  boys 
capsized  their  boat  the  other  day  out  there  beyond  the  breakers, 
she  never  waited  to  scream  nor  call  for  help,  nor  nothing,  but  into 
her  father's  boat  she  jumped,  and  hoisted  the  sail,  and  was  out 
there  among  them  before  you  could  say  '  Jack  Robinson  ;'  and 
she  kept  her  head  so  steady,  and  went  to  work  with  so  much 
sense,   that  not  a  one  of  them  was  drowned." 

"  Oh,  please  tell  me  who  it  was,"  cried  Annie  excitedly  ;  "  I 
should  like  so  much  to  see  her  !" 

"  It's  my  little  daughter,  miss,"  said  the  sailor,  turning  to  Annie 
with  a  pleasant  smile,  "  and  you  can  see  her  a'most  any  day  you 
choose  to  come  down  to  the  cove.  Whenever  my  boat's  out  she 
runs  down  to  the  beach  a  dozen  times  to  see  if  she  can  spy  me 
coming  in.  Our  house  is  down  by  the  old  pier,  and  she's  the 
housekeeper :    she  cooks  and  scrubs,  and  washes    and    irons,  and 


"THEY   FOUND   HER  STANDING  IN   THE  COVE   BESIDE  THE  OLD   PIER." 

See  Page  185. 


DARING.  185 


always  has  me  a  good  supper  or  dinner,  as  the  case  may  be,  ready 
as  soon  as  I  come  in." 

"Is  she  all  alone  while  you  are  out  ?"  asked  Ada,  who  had  lis- 
tened with  deep  interest. 

"  Yes,  miss,"  he  answered,  a  little  sadly  ;  "  her  mother  died  when 
she  was  a  mite  of  a  baby,  and  she  and  I  have  taken  care  of  each 
other  ever  since." 

"  We'll  come  down  to  the  old  pier  to-morrow,"  said  Annie  deci- 
dedly.    "  I  want  to  see  her  and  tell  her  how  brave  I  think  she  is." 

"  She'll  be  glad  enough  to  see  you,  my  little  ladies,"  said  the 
sailor,  looking  very  much  pleased.  "  I  often  fret  myself  with  think- 
ing how  lonesome  she  must  be  when  I'm  away,  and,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  when  I'm  there  too,  for  I'm  quiet  company  for  a  bright 
little  thing  like  her.  I've  engaged  to  take  a  party  out  early  to- 
morrow morning,  and  we'll  likely  be  back  about  one  o'clock,  so 
if  you  go  down  to  the  old  pier  between  twelve  and  one,  you'll  be 
pretty  sure  of  finding  my  little  Amy  on  the  beach." 

The  children  went  home  full  of  talk  about  their  little  heroine, 
and  Mrs.  Hebbard  willingly  agreed  to  walk  with  them  to  the  old 
pier  the  next  morning  to  see  her.  She  thought  that  perhaps  she 
could  in  some  way  befriend  the  lonely  little  girl,  and  that  it  would, 
at  any  rate,  give  her  pleasure  to  see  Annie  and  Ada. 

They  found  her  the  next  morning,  as  her  father  had  said,  stand- 
ing in  the  pebbly  cove  beside  the  old  pier,  shading  her  eyes  with 
her  hand  as  she  watched  his  boat  come  in.     She  was  a  slender  but 


1 86  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


strong  and  healthy-looking  girl  of  about  fourteen,  with  a  sun- 
browned  face  and  bright,  pleasant  eyes.  She  seemed  very  glad  to 
see  the  little  girls,  and  invited  them  to  come  and  rest  in  the  vine- 
covered  porch  of  the  small  house,  which  stood  far  enough  back 
from  the  sea  for  grass  and  trees  and  shrubbery  to  grow  around 
it,  although  on  this  part  of  the  coast  there  were  "green  things 
growing"  almost  down  to  the  narrow  strip  of  beach-sand  which 
bordered  the  sea. 

Mrs.  Hebbard  declined  at  first,  thinking  that  the  sailor  would 
want  his  dinner,  and  they  would  be  in  the  way,  but  Amy,  guess- 
ing her  reason,  said  smilingly,  "  Indeed,  ma'am,  father  won't  be 
ready  for  his  dinner  this  half  hour:  he  never  will  leave  the  boat, 
after  it  has  been  used,  until  he's  mopped  up  the  deck  and  sponged 
off  the  paint ;  he's  as  particular  with  it  as  I  am  with  the  house." 

"  Then  we  will  sit  down  for  a  few  minutes,"  said  Mrs.  Hebbard, 
"  for  these  little  girls  wish  very  much  to  hear  from  your  own  lips 
about  your  courageous  act  the  other  day." 

Amy  did  not  seem  to  understand  for  a  moment,  and  then  she 
laughed  and  blushed,  saying,  "  It  was  nothing  so  very  courageous, 
ma'am  :  I'm  so  used  to  the  water  that  it  was  quite  safe  for  me,  and 
if   I   had   waited   to   call  any   one   it   might  have   been   too   late." 

Annie  and  Ada  asked  many  eager  questions,  all  of  which  the 
child  answered  pleasantly  and  readily,  but  it  was  quite  evident  that 
she  did  not  in  the  least  regard  herself  as  a  heroine,  or  even  think 
that  she  had  been  brave. 


i  W.4 

M     m 


"A    LITTLE    BASKET,   FILLED    WITH    A   CAT-BIRD'S    NEST,  SWUNG    FROM   A   BOUGH." 

See  page  18 


DARING.  189 


When  they  asked  her  if  she  were  never  lonely,  she  said,  hesi- 
tatingly, "  Well,  not  exactly  lonely,  for  I  can  almost  always  find 
something-  to  do,  but  I  do  sometimes  wish  that  I  had  some  lesson- 
books.  I've  read  all  the  books  on  the  shelf,  some  of  them  two  or 
three  times,  and  there  are  winter  evenings  and  times  like  them 
when  I  could  study  nicely  if  I  only  had  the  books." 

"  If  you  will  come  and  see  us  to-morrow  afternoon,  said  Mrs. 
Hebbard,  "we  will  have  a  talk  about  it,  and  I  think  I  can  send 
you  enough  school-books  for  next  winter,  at  least,  when  I  go  home. 
I  have  a  good  many  which  Ada's  older  sister  used,  and  it  would 
give  me  pleasure  to  send  them  to  you." 

Amy  thanked  Mrs.  Hebbard  very  gratefully,  and  promised  to 
come.  Then,  as  they  rose  to  go,  she  led  the  way  to  a  clump  of 
bushes  near  the  kitchen-door. 

"  I  always  have  plenty  of  company  in  summer,"  she  said,  smiling. 
"Ever  since  I  hung  a  basket  here  three  years  ago  I  have  a  family 
of  tenants  who  pay  me  in  music." 

Parting  the  boughs,  she  disclosed  a  little  basket  swinging  from  a 
branch  and  filled  with  a  cat-bird's  nest,  in  which  a  half-fledged 
bird  was  opening  its  mouth  to  be  fed,  while  the  mother  hovered 
anxiously  about,  evidently  in  doubt  as  to  what  these  intrusive 
people  meant  to  do. 

"  She  doesn't  mind  me  at  all,  she's  so  used  to  me,"  said  Amy, 
"  but  strangers  frighten  her  a  little.  There  were  two  more,  and 
I've   been    fretting  a   good   deal,   because   I'm   afraid    the   cat   has 


190  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

got  them.  They  were  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  nest,  trying  to 
fly,  yesterday,  and  I  haven't  seen  them  since." 

The  children  were  greatly  interested,  and  would  have  stayed 
longer,  but  Mrs.  Hebbard  saw  the  sailor  coming,  and  they  bade 
Amy  good-bye,  telling  her  to  be  sure  and  come  the  next  day. 

On  the  way  home  Annie  could  talk  of  nothing  but  Amy's  cour- 
age in  rescuing  the  boys,  but  Mrs.  Hebbard  said  gently,  "  I  think 
she  shows  the  truest  courage  in  her  unselfish,  toilsome  daily  life. 
She  must  often  be  lonely  and  tired,  but  she  did  not  utter  a  word 
of   complaint  about  anything." 

Annie  was  silent.  She  could  not  help  thinking  how  differently 
Amy  would  have  acted  from  herself  could  they  change  places,  and 
how  impatiently  and  fretfully  she  would  behave  under  a  small  part 
of  Amy's   privations. 

They  stopped  for  their  letters,  and  Ada,  as  she  finished  reading 
one  from  her  father,  exclaimed  joyfully,  "  Papa  says  he  is  going  to 
bring  the  new  horse  and  your  phaeton,  to-morrow,  mamma,  and 
that  the  horse  is  quite  gentle,  and  he  is  sure  you   can  drive  it." 

This  was  welcome  news.  There  were  many  pretty  drives  in  the 
neighborhood,  but  Mrs.  Hebbard  had  found  great  difficulty  in  hir- 
ing suitable  horses,  and  Mr.  Hebbard  had  been  unwilling  to  send 
the  new  horse  until  he  had  tried  it  and  made  himself  sure  that  it 
was  safe.  Mrs.  Hebbard  and  the  children  were  at  the  station  some 
time  before  the  morning-train  was  due  the  next  day  in  their  impa- 
tience  to   welcome   Mr.    Hebbard  and   the  horse.      A  board  was 


DARING.  10 1 


slanted  from  the  side  of  the  freight-car  to  the  ground,  and  the 
horse  was  led  carefully  down,  but  scarcely  had  he  reached  the 
ground  when  Annie  sprang  forward,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  it's  Don  ! 
it's  my  own   dear  old   Don  !" 

It  was  indeed,  and  he  seemed  to  recognize  Annie,  putting  down 
his  nose  to  be  petted  and  whinnying  gently,  as  he  used  to  do.  Mr. 
Hebbard  had  bought  him  from  a  horse-dealer,  so  it  was  impossible 
to  tell  where  he  had  been  since  Annie  parted  from  him,  but  he  had 
evidently  been  well  cared  for. 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  only  ride  him  again  !"  said  Annie  impulsively  as 
they  walked  back  to  the  boarding-house. 

"Why!  did  you  ride  him,  Annie?"  asked  Ada  in  surprise. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Annie;  "papa  was  teaching  me,  and  I 
used  to  ride  nearly  every  day." 

"How  you  must  have  hated  to  give  him  up  !"  said  Ada,  sympa- 
thizingly ;  and  Annie  assented,  saying  to  herself,  "They  did  not 
ask  me  if  I  rode  him  in  the  lane  or  on   the   road." 

"You  shall  ride  him  again,"  said  Mr.  Hebbard  kindly.  "I  am 
obliged  to  go  back  to-morrow,  but  Bob  is  a  trustworthy  fellow,  and 
if  he  can  find  a  horse  for  himself  you  can  ride  every  day,  if  you 
like,  after  Mrs.  Hebbard  has  taken  her  drive." 

"Oh,  thank  you  very  much,"  said  Annie  delightedly. — "I  will  buy 
some  black  stuff  this  afternoon,  Ada,  and  make  a  skirt :  that  black 
cashmere  waist  will  do  quite  well." 

Mrs.   Hebbard  had   always   found   Annie    truthful,   and  it  never 


192  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


occurred  to  any  of  them  to  question  her  statement  that  she  had 
often  ridden  Don.  Amy  came  that  afternoon  while  they  were 
busy  over  the  skirt,  and  insisted  upon  helping,  so  that  by  evening 
it  was  quite  done,  and  Annie  promised  to  go  to  the  old  pier  for  her 
very  first  ride  and  let  Amy  see  how  well  it  looked.  Mr.  Hebbard 
had  advised  her  to  wait  a  few  days,  until  Don  should  be  quite  over 
the  nervousness  of  the  journey  ;  and  she  was  very  willing  to  do 
this,  for,  while  she  was  not  a  little  elated  with  the  prospect  of  a 
"  real  "  ride,  with  a  groom  in  attendance,  she  quaked  a  little  at  the 
thought  of  riding  Don  without  her  father  at  hand  to  direct  and 
encourage  her.  No  one  would  have  suspected  this,  however,  from 
her  smiling  face  when  the  afternoon  at  last  came  and  Don  was  led 
to  the  door.  She  set  off  gayly,  waving  her  hand  to  Mrs.  Hebbard 
and  Ada,  who  watched  her  from  the  piazza.  But  she  soon  found 
that  it  required  a  strong  hand  and  fixed  attention  to  manage  the 
spirited  horse,  who  had  been  well  fed  and  lightly  worked,  and  she 
would  have  given  much  before  the  end  of  the  straggling  village- 
street  was  reached  to  be  safely  out  of  the  enterprise.  Nothing  but 
a  very  false  pride  restrained  her  from  returning  even  then  and 
owning  the  truth.  She  was  trying  to  convince  herself  that  it  would 
be  foolish  to  do  this  when  a  dog  suddenly  sprang  toward  the  horse, 
barking  loudly.  Don  shied  violently,  almost  throwing  her  from  the 
saddle,  and  then  broke  into  a  run,  paying  no  attention  whatever  to 
her  frantic  tugs  at  the  bridle.  The  noise  made  by  the  groom  and 
the  blacksmith  and  the  dog  in  pursuit,  and  the  screaming  of  one  or 


•A   BOY   BY   THE   WAYSIDE   BRAVELY   SEIZED   THE   BRIDLE,  AND   HELD   HIM." 

See  Page  195. 
\ 


DARING.  195 


two  thoughtless  women,  increased  Don's  fright;  he  looked  behind 
him,  as  horses  so  often  do  when  running  away,  and  Annie  would 
no  doubt  have  been  dashed  from  the  saddle  in  another  moment, 
when  a  boy  who  was  digging  sods  by  the  roadside,  seeing  the 
horse  coming,  bravely  stood  in  his  path  and  seized  the  bridle.  He 
managed  to  hold  on  until  the  groom  and  the  blacksmith  came  up, 
and  then,  with  a  cry  of  pain,  he  let  go  his  hold  :  his  shoulder  had 
been  put  out  of  joint  by  the  last  desperate  pull  which  Don  had 
given  to  the  reins.  Annie  was  quite  unhurt,  but  weak  and  trem- 
bling with  fright,  and  her  confession,  first  to  Mrs.  Hebbard,  and  a 
few  days  later  to  her  mother,  was  a  very  humble  one. 

"  I  thought  I  was  being  very  brave,  mamma,  when  I  mounted 
Don,"  she  said,  "  but  I  see  now  that  I  was  a  coward  ;  I  was  afraid 
to  own  that  I  had  told  what  was  not  true  about  riding  Don  ;  for  it 
was  just  the  same  as  an  untruth,  although  the  words  themselves 
were  true,  and  so  I  came  near  being  killed  myself,  and  have  been 
the  cause  of  all  the  pain   that  poor  brave  boy  is  suffering." 

"It  is  much  harder  to  have  the  kind  of  courage  in  which  you 
were  wanting,  my  poor  little  girl,"  said  her  mother,  "  than  it  is  to 
have  mere  physical  courage,  which  often  amounts  to  nothing  but 
foolhardiness.  You  have  had  a  serious  lesson,  and  I  hope  it  will 
teach  you  that  there  is  a  higher  and  better  pleasure   than   that  of 


having  one's  own  w 


s 


/ay. 


Annie  proved  the  sincerity  of  her  repentance  by  asking  that  a 
promised   birthday-party   might   be   given   up,  and   that   she   might 


196 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


take  the  money  which  it  would  have  cost,  together  with  a  gold- 
piece  which  she  had  been  treasuring  for  the  purchase  of  a  paint- 
box, to  the  brave  little  fellow  who  had  risked  his  life  to  save  hers. 
This  was  done,  and  although  he  at  first  refused  to  take  it,  Mrs. 
Cameron  finally  succeeded  in  convincing  him  that  it  was  not  right 
to  let  the  expense  of  the  accident  fall  upon  his  mother,  who  could 
ill  afford  it.  And  Annie  showed  her  gratitude  while  they  remained 
in  the  neighborhood  by  daily  visits  and  many  little  acts  of  kind- 
ness. 


1  '•< 

Mm    N^wi 

giliiljk  ^.    ~*^m$Lt 

&tfv/  «S 

THE    END    OF   THE    RAINBOW. 


TT  was  evening,  and  the  children, 
A       Who  had  been  away  to  glean, 
Were  laughing  and  dancing  and  shouting 

Upon  the  village-green  ; 
For  Jan,  their  prince  and  leader — 

A  fearless  lad  and  bold — 
Showed  them  a  whole  month's  wages, 

A  shining  piece  of  gold. 


197 


198  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

She's  a  funny  little  body, 

That  little  Mat  of  ours  ; 
If  we  take  her  out  a-gleaning, 

She  stops  to  gather  flowers. 
When  she  saw  the  shining  gold-piece 

In  Jan's  hand,  little  Mat 
Said,  "  Where  shall  I  find  them  growing, 

Such  flowers,  Jan,  as  that?" 

Jan  laughed  with  his  hearty  laughter, 

And  said  to  little  Mat, 
"  The  next  time  there's  a  rainbow, 

You  go  to  the  end  of  that, 
And  there'll  you'll  find  gold-pieces, 

And  diamonds  and  pearls, 
Enough  for  yourself,  my  beauty, 

And  all  the  little  girls." 

And  to  think  that  she  believed  him  ! 

She  never  once  let  on, 
But  last  night  there  came  a  rainbow, 

And  little  Mat  was  gone. 
It  was  just  as  the  sun  was  setting  : 

We  were  rushing  back  to  play 
On  the  green,  for  the  shower  was  over 

That  had  scattered  us  away. 


THE    END     OF    THE    RAINBOW. 


199 


She     went     through 
the    briery    pas- 
ture, 
Where     the     bars 
had       been      let 
down, 
For   we   found   upon 
the  briers 
Scraps  of  her  little 
gown  ; 
And  then  there  came 
a  wheatfield, 
And  such  tiny,  tiny 
"  feet 
As  our  Mat's  would 
leave    no    track 
there 
In  passing  through 
the  wheat. 


•SHE  WENT  THROUGH  THE   BRIERY  PASTURE.' 


So  we  searched  and  called  and  wandered 

For  an  hour,  father  and  I ; 
And  at  last  I  was  so  frightened 

That  1  could  not  help  but  cry  ; 


200 


HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


For,  you  see,  she  is  so  little, 
And  it  was  nearly  dark, 

But  before  I  was  fairly  crying 
I  heard  the  puppy  bark. 


' 


"SHE  WAS   LYING  THERE,  THE  DARLING  I" 

I  hadn't  thought  of  the  puppy — 
He  follows  her  all  about — 


THE    END     OF    THE    RAINBOW. 


201 


And  as  soon  as  we  heard  him  barking, 

At  once  we  spied  her  out. 
She  was  lying  there,'  the  darling ! 

By  his  side,  asleep  in  peace, 
And  he  was  bravely  barking 

At  a  flock  of  prying  geese. 


Father  picked  her  up  in  a  minute — 

We  hadn't  the  heart  to  scold — 
And  she  said  to  me,  "Oh,  sister, 

I  did  not  find  the  gold. 
I  saw  the  end  of  the  rainbow 

In  this  wheatfield  from  our  gate, 
But  it  was  eone  when  I  srot  here  : 

I  suppose  I  was  too  late." 


mm 


wN\\;.-i  ■>-lvr''l,v '  v-'l  ■-/•    \,  ft 


A   COUNTRY   MONTH. 


AIR.  and  Mrs.  Holman,  and  Ce- 
-'-*■  cil  and  Agnes,  were  sitting  at 
breakfast  in  a  cheerful,  pleasant 
breakfast- room.  The  postman 
had  just  rung  the  bell  and  left 
several  letters,  and  Mrs.  Holman 
was  reading  one.  It  must  have 
had  something  pleasant  in  it,  for 
she  smiled  several  times  as  she 
read  it,  until  the  children,  both  at 
once,  burst  out,  "What  is  it,  mam- 
ma ?     Read  it  aloud,  please." 

But  she  kept  quietly  on  to  the 
end,  as  if  she  had  not  heard  them, 
and  when  she  had  finished  she  turned  to  their  father,  saying  quite 
gravely,  though  a  smile  lurked  in  her  eyes  and  in  the  corners  of 
her  mouth,  "  Don't  you  think,  papa,  that  Agnes  and  Cecil  are  look- 
ing a  little  pale  and  thin  ?" 

Mr.  Holman  looked  at  his   children   anxiously,  but  not  even   the 
most    anxious    parent   could   have    seen   anything    but    health  and 

202 


'THAT    LOVELY    BATH    IN    THE   WATER-BUTT    WAS    TOO   COLD    FOR    HER." 

See  Page  206. 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH.  205 


strength  in  the  two  rosy  faces  which  shone  above  two  large  bowls 
of  porridge  and  milk.  "  Why  no,  dear,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  say  that 
I  do  ;  what  put  such  an  idea  into  your  head  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Holman,  twisting  the  letter  in  her  fingers, 
"  it  occurred  to  me  that  they  had  both  done  very  well  at  school 
this  last  term,  and  that  they  needed  a  little  change  of  air  and 
scene." 

"Oh,  I  know  what  it  is,"  exclaimed  Agnes  joyfully:  "we're 
invited  to  Aunt  and  Uncle  Pennell's  ;  they  said  we  must  come  in 
the  holidays. — You'll  let  us  go,  mamma ;  you  will,  won't  you  ?" 

"It's  a  clear  case  of  mind-reading,"  said  Mr.  Holman,  as  he  saw 
by  his  wife's  smile  that  Agnes  had  guessed  right.  "  You'll  have  to 
stop  thinking  when  these  children  are  about,  mamma." 

Aunt  and  Uncle  Pennell  lived  on  a  large  farm  in  a  wild,  beautiful 
part  of  Pennsylvania,  and  they  contended  that  the  scenery  by  which 
they  were  surrounded  quite  made  up  to  them  for  the  hilliness  and 
stoniness  of  their  farm.  They  had  no  children,  and  the  delight  was 
always  mutual  when  Agnes  and  Cecil  visited  them. 

A  joyful  note  of  preparation  sounded  through  the  house.  Uncle 
Pennell  had  written  that  he  would  have  business  in  town  the  next 
day  but  one  after  his  letter  reached  them,  and  that  he  hoped  the 
children  would  be  ready  to  return  with  him.  So,  while  Mrs.  Hol- 
man packed  such  trifling  matters  as  clothes  and  shoes,  Cecil  and 
Agnes  attended  to  fishing-lines  and  landing-nets  and  their  new 
croquet  set  and  a  large  family  of  dolls — so  large  that  all  could  not 


2C>6  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


go,  and  a  heartrending  choice  must  be  made — half  to  go  and  half 
to  stay. 

"  I  suppose  you'll  take  that  gorgeous  thing  you  got  last  Christ- 
mas ?"  said  Cecil,  who  tolerated  dolls,  and  even  made  furniture, 
because,  as  he  said,  "  Agnes  is  jolly  good  company  in  all  the  games 
I  like  ;  so  of  course  I'm  civil  to  her  dolls,  though  I  can't  see  much 
sense  in  them." 

"  No,"  said  Agnes,  thoughtfully.  "  Lady  Geraldine  is  looking 
very  well ;  and  besides,  I  don't  believe  the  sun  would  be  good  for 
her  complexion  :  we  shall  be  out  of  doors  most  of  the  time,  you 
know.  I  am  picking  out  the  ones  who  haven't  been  well.  There 
is  poor  Clarissa,  who  has  never  seemed  quite  the  same  since  I  gave 
her  that  lovely  bath  in  the  water-butt ;  it  was  too  cold  for  her,  I'm 
afraid.  She's  the  worst  of  all,  but  there  are  five  more  who  haven't 
looked  well  lately,  so  I  shall  take  those  six." 

"  You  wouldn't  look  well  yourself,"  said  Cecil,  "  if  somebody'd 
knocked  your  nose  off,  or  let  half  the  stuffing  out  of  you,  or 
pulled  all  your  hair  off,  or  sewed  your  arms  on  hind-part  before, 
or  lost  one  of  your  legs." 

"  I  have  hopes  of  all  of  them  except  poor  Berengaria,"  said 
Agnes  sadly  :  "  I  don't  see  how  anything  can  be  done  for  her  nose. 
But  perhaps  Aunt  Lucy  will ;  she's  a  wonderful  person  to  think 
of  things.  Perhaps  it  is  because  she  has  such  nice  quiet  times  to 
think  in." 

"She  will  not  have  them  much  longer,"  said  Cecil,  laughing,  "but 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


207 


then  I  don't  think  she  minds  a  good  noise  any  more  than  mamma 
does." 

The  journey  to  the  Hill  Farm  was  a  long  and  somewhat  tedious 


"THE   COWS   STOOD    KNEE-DEEP    IN    THE   LITTLE    RIVER." 

one,  but  it  did  not  seem  so   to  the   eager  children,  who   had  been 
shut  up  in   a  city  for  nearly  a  year,  and  to  whom   everything  they 


208  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


saw  and  heard  was  delightful.  The  large  "  express-wagon,"  with 
all  the  curtains  rolled  up,  was  waiting  for  them  at  the  station,  and 
they  drove  through  the  fields  in  the  soft  twilight,  the  narrow  road 
winding  away  up  a  long  hill  upon  the  side  of  which  the  large  old- 
fashioned  house  was  built.  The  cows  had  been  milked  and  turned 
out  to  pasture  again,  and  were  standing  about,  some  on  the  soft 
grass,  and  some  knee-deep  in  the  little  river  which  ran  through 
the  pasture-land.  A  few  late  bird-notes  came  from  the  woods, 
and  everything  was  so  lovely  that  they  would  have  been  sorry 
that  the  drive  should  come  to  an  end  if  it  had  not  been  for  Aunt 
Lucy's  kind  welcoming  face  in  the  doorway. 

They  found  they  were  more  tired  than  they  imagined,  and  after 
the  good  country  supper  was  disposed  of  they  were  very  glad  to 
go  to  the  little  white -bed,  smelling  of  lavender,  which  Aunt  Lucy's 
loving  hands  had  made  ready  for  them  ;  but  they  begged  that  they 
might  be  called  "the  first  thing"  in  the  morning,  there  was  so 
much  to  see  and  to  do.  Their  uncle  had  told  them  that  the  wheat- 
harvest  was  to  begin  the  next  day,  and  both  of  them  expected  to 
be  very  busy — Agnes  with  helping  Aunt  Lucy  in  her  preparations 
for  the  grand  harvest-home  supper  which  always  was  held  in  the 
great  barn  as  soon   as  the  harvesting  was  done. 

But  the  men  with  their  wheat-cradles  and  the  women  who  fol- 
lowed them  to  bind  the  sheaves  had  been  in  the  wheatfield  for  an 
hour  or  two  the  next  morning  before  the  tired  children  woke. 
Aunt    Lucy  had    gone    to    call    them,  but    they    were    sleeping    so 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


209 


soundly  that,  as  she  said  to   Uncle   John,  she   "  hadn't   the  heart  to 
wake  them  till  they'd  had  their  sleep  out ;"  so  she  saved  them  some 
breakfast,  and  laughed  at  their  reproaches  when   they  came  down, 
toward  eight  o'clock,  thoroughly  rested  and  ready  for  anything. 
There  was  only  one  drawback  to  Agnes's  enjoyment  when   she 

\-  v-  stayed  at   Hill   Farm  :   she 

was      terribly     afraid      of 
ft 1? *X  '~  v#     4|'|  \   cows.     In  vain  Cecil, 

^ffll    OIK     \  ,  ■  ,       ,       ■  A        , 

who  was  not  airaid  01 
anything,  fed 
a  and  caressed 
the  pretty, 
gentle  crea- 
tures at  milk- 
ing-time  ;  Ag- 
nes always 
preferred  to 
be      on      the 


n-^Mti&c 


yi^    "CECIL  FED  THE  COWS  OUT  OF  HIS  HAND." 
0  * 

other  side  of  the  fence  while  this  operation  was  being 
£*""*  performed. 

"I  know  all  about  it,  Cecil,"  she  would  say.  "They 
look  as  gentle  as  dear  little  lambs  while  they  are  eating  things  out 
of  your  hand  in  that  way,  and  while  Nanny  is  milking  them,  but 
nobody  can  tell  what  they  are  thinking  about :  they  may  be  in- 
tending to  spear  you  with  their  horns  the  very  next  minute  ;  and 

14 


2IO  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

when  they  have  you  between  them  and  the  fence  they  make  most 
dreadful  faces  at  you  with  their  great  eyes." 

And  nothing  that  Cecil  could  say  gave  Agnes  any  confidence  in 
cows. 

While  they  were  still  lingering  over  their  saved  breakfast,  dis- 
cussing the  cow  question,  Uncle  John  came  in  from  the  harvest- 
field  warm  and  thirsty,  and  very  glad  to  find  Aunt  Lucy's  bright 
pail  of  raspberry  vinegar,  with  a  lump  of  ice  floating  in  it  and  a 
new  tin  dipper  tied  to  the  pail,  waiting  in  the  back  porch  to  be 
carried  to  the  field. 

"That's  good!"  he  said  as  he  emptied  the  dipper.  "I  never 
found  a  drink  yet,  Lucy,  that  I  liked  better  than  this  of  a  hot  day. 
I  wonder  if  there's  a  smart  boy  of  nine  or  ten  anywhere  around 
here  who'd  like  a  job  for  the  morning?"  he  added,  turning  with 
a  smile  to  the  children. 

"  Here's  one,  sir,  all  ready  for  anything,"  said  Cecil,  jump- 
ing up. 

"  Well,  then,  ask  Aunt  Lucy  for  a  basket,  and  come  with  me  to 
the  orchard,"  said  Uncle  John.  "There's  a  tree  full  of  harvest 
apples  there  spoiling  to  be  picked,  and  the  men  would  think  I  was 
crazy  if  I  took  one  of  them  from  the  wheat-cutting  such  weather 
as  this.  We'll  pick  them  on  shares  :  you  keep  count  of  your 
baskets,  and  I'll  send  you  down  half  what  you've  picked  in  winter 
apples  this  fall,  for  these  will  have  to  go  to  market  right  off.  They 
don't  keep  long,  but  they  sell  like  hot  cakes.    How  will  that  suit  you  ?" 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


21  I 


"Splendidly!"    said    Cecil, 


joyfully. — "Just  think,  Agnes, 
of  having  ever  so  many  ap- 
ples all  our  own,  in  the  fall ! 
We  can  take  some  to  every- 
body at  school  for  days  and 
days." 

So  Cecil  went  joyfully  with 
his  uncle  to  the  orchard,  and 
spent  a  busy  morning  among 
the  harvest  apples,  while  Ag- 
nes followed  Aunt  Lucy  from 
the  great  airy  kitchen,  with 
its  painted  floor  and  raftered 
ceiling,  to  the  delightfully  cool 
dairy  and  cellars,  helping  with 
whatever  willing  little  hands 
could  do,  and  looking  on  ad- 
miringly  when  she  could  not 

help. 

But  Aunt  Lucy  did  not  mean 

her  little  girl  to  spend  the  whole 

of  that  bright  day  in  the  house; 

so  after  dinner,  when  a  light 
breeze  sprang  up  and  some  white  clouds  came  skimming  across 
the   sun,   she   said    to  her,   "  You've    done   all   you   can   now,   little 


212  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


maid,  and  I  want  you  to  put  on  your  hat  and  go  down  the  lane  to  the 
spring-house — it's  shady  nearly  all  the  way — and  where  the  spring 
comes  out  from  the  rocks,  just  above  the  house,  you'll  find  such  a 
tangle  of  ferns  and  wild  roses  and  honeysuckle  as  you  haven't 
seen  since  the  last  time  you  were  here  ;  and  I  want  enough  to  fill 
the  big  brown  pitcher.  Your  uncle  loves  to  see  flowers  on  the  tea- 
table,  and  I  always  pick  them  for  him  when  I  have  time,  but  I 
thought  perhaps  you'd  take  that  much  of  the  housekeeping  off  my 
hands  while  you're  here." 

"  Oh,  aunty,  that  will  be  delightful !"  said  Agnes  eagerly,  "  there 
are  such  heaps  of  flowers  about  here !  I'll  go  right  away,  and  do 
you  want  me  to  hurry  back  ?" 

"  No,  dear ;  stay  as  long  as  you  please,  and  go  on  to  the  orchard 
and  harvest-field  if  you  like,"  replied  Aunt  Lucy,  smiling.  "  You'll 
hear  the  horn  at  half-past  five,  and  that  will  be  time  enough  for  you 
to  come  back.  You  can  arrange  them  while  you're  out  there,  and 
then  it'll  not  take  a  minute  to  put  them  in  the  pitcher." 

It  was  a  very  happy  little  girl  who  went  wandering  down  the 
green,  shady  lane  which  led  to  the  spring-house,  singing  little 
snatches  of  song  and  thinking  what  a  letter  full  of  things  she 
already  had  to  write  to  her  mother.  And  her  happiness  rose  to 
rapture  when  she  found  the  tangle  of  sweet  things  of  which  her 
aunt  had  told  her.  She  sat  with  her  hands  clasped,  feeling  as  if  it 
would  be  too  bad  to  spoil  the  beauty  of  the  little  nook  by  picking 
anything  ;  and   she  had   nearly   fallen   asleep  in   the  sweet,  warm, 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


213 


drowsy  air  when  somebody  suddenly  said,  "  Boo  !"  close  by  her 
ear,  and  she  sprang  up,  startled,  to  see  her  uncle's  laughing  face 
peeping  at  her  through  an  opening  in  the  honeysuckle  vines. 


"SHE   WAS   STARTLED  AT   SEEING   HER   UNCLE'S    FACE." 

"And  what  are  you  doing  here,  I  should  like  to  know,"  said 
Uncle  John,  "  falling  asleep  among  the  leaves,  like  a  babe  in  the 
woods  ?" 

•'  I  came  to  pick  some  flowers  for  aunty,  Uncle  John,"  answered 
Agnes,  quite  awake  now  and  making  a  vigorous  attack  upon  the 
honeysuckle  ;     "  but    everything    looked    so    lovely    that    it   almost 


2  14  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


seemed  as  if  I  oughtn't  to,  and  I  didn't  know  I  was  asleep  at  all 
till  you  '  boo'd '  at  me.  You  oughtn't  to  do  such  things,  dear: 
don't  you  know  that  when  people  are  very  badly  frightened  their 
hair  sometimes  turns  perfectly  white  right  away?" 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  Uncle  John  gravely,  "  but  I'll  try 
and  remember  it  the  next  time.  You  leave  your  posies  here  in  the 
spring,  Pussy,  and  come  with  me  to  the  harvest-field.  I've  some- 
thing to  show  you,  and  I  was  coming  to  the  house  to  call  you  when 
I  spied  you  here.  We'll  call  Cecil  as  we  go  by  the  orchard ;  he's 
dreadfully  busy,  but  perhaps  he  can  spare  himself  for  five  minutes." 

So  Agnes  put  her  bunch  of  honeysuckle  carefully  in  a  little  basin 
on  one  side  of  the  stream,  and  skipped  along  by  Uncle  John's  side, 
helping  him  give  a  loud  "  halloo  "  to  Cecil  as  they  passed  the 
orchard.  They  found  quite  an  excitement  when  they  came  to  the 
harvest-field.  The  woman  who  lived  in  the  tenant-house  was  there, 
with  her  baby  in  her  arms  and  another  clinging  to  her  skirts,  and 
several  of  the  laborers'  children  were  there  too  ;  and  the  oldest 
reaper  pointed  the  children  to  a  beautiful  little  nest  on  the  ground, 
right  in  the  midst  of  the  great  wheatfield,  with  three  white  eggs  in 
it.  Cecil  came  running  up,  and  he  and  Agnes  bent  over  the  nest, 
thinking  it  the  prettiest  thing  they  had  ever  seen. 

"  But  where  is  the  mother-bird?"  asked  Agnes.  "She  ought  to 
be  here  taking  care  of  her  eggs." 

"  She  was  scared  away  hours  ago,  my  dear,"  said  the  man.  "  It's 
a  lark's  nest ;  they  always  build  on  the  ground,  poor  foolish  things  ! 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


215 


"ONE   OF   THE   MEN    POINTED   TO   A    NEST   ON    THE   GROUND." 


and  I  doubt  if  she  ever  comes  back  :  they're  easily  frightened  oft. 
It  won't  do  to  leave  the  nest  here — it  would  be  sure  to  be  tramped 


2l6  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


on — but  you  might  take  it  up  carefully  and  put  it  in  the  fence- 
corner,  and  if  she's  coming  back  she'll  find  it  after  we've  gone  this 
evening  and  everything's  quiet." 

So  Agnes  and  Cecil  carefully  lifted  the  pretty  nest  and  put  it 
safely  in  the  fence-corner,  but  the  mother-lark  never  came  back  to 
it :  she  had  been  too  badly  frightened  ;  so,  after  waiting  two  or 
three  days  to  make  sure,  the  children  brought  the  nest  to  the  house 
and  Uncle  John  showed  them  how  to  "  blow  "  the  eggs.  The  nest 
would  be  a  great  ornament  for  their  cabinet  next  winter. 

It  was  not  until  Agnes  was  in  bed  that  evening,  and  just  falling 
into  a  delightful  sleep,  that  she  remembered  her  unfortunate  chil- 
dren, brought  to  the  country  for  their  health  and  then  left  for  a 
whole  night  and  day  packed  in  a  dismal  trunk.  But  sleep  was  too 
strong  for  her  ;  she  only  had  time  to  murmur  to  herself,  "  I'll  beg 
all  their  pardons  to-morrow,"  and  then  she  knew  nothing  more 
till  mornincr 

And  lo  and  behold!  when  she  waked  with  the  sunshine  stream- 
ing into  her  room,  and  feeling  as  if  she  had  been  roused  by  some- 
body's laughing,  there  sat  the  whole  six,  in  chairs  adapted  to  their 
various  sizes,  by  her  bed,  and  she  pinched  herself  to  see  if  she  were 
dreaming.  Then  she  saw  that  Berengaria  was  proudly  holding 
aloft  a  perfectly-restored  nose,  and  was  once  more  the  elegant  and 
gracious  lady  who  had  come  to  delight  Agnes's  heart  the  previous 
Christmas  ;  and  she  saw  that  the  chairs  were  ingeniously  made  of 
slender  cornstalks,  bound  together  with  packthread,  and  that  in  the 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


217 


lap  of  the  black  Dinah,  who  had  been  brought  on  account  of  her 
missing  leg,  lay  a  very  funny  cornhusk  baby. 

Agnes  felt  as   if  she  could  scarcely  wait  to  wash  and  dress,  she 
was  in  such  a  hurry  to  get  down  stairs  and  solve  the  mystery.     It 


^fe-t^ 


"SHE   FOUND  THE  TENANT'S   DAUGHTER   ON   HER   KNEES   BEFORE  BERENGAvRIA^" 

was  easily  solved.  Aunt  Lucy  had  found  the  neglected  children 
when  she  unpacked  Agnes's  trunk  and  put  her  clothes  in  bureau 
and  closet,  and  she  had  mended  Berengaria's  nose  with  some  wax 
left  from  making  wax  flowers,  and  put  a  delicate  coat  of  paint  on 


2l8  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


it,  the  evening  before  after  Agnes  was  in  bed,  while  Uncle  John 
made  the  cornstalk  chairs  and  the  cornhusk  baby. 

"  I  think  I'll  take  Berengaria  out  in  the  little  grove  and  seat  her 
under  a  pine  tree  as  long  as  the  weather  is  good,  aunty,"  said 
Agnes  after  breakfast.  "  I've  heard  mamma  say  there's  nothing 
so   restoring  as  pine-air." 

So  the  invalid  was  dressed  in  her  walking-suit  and  new  summer 
hat,  and  seated  on  a  soft  cushion  of  moss  against  a  fallen  pine  tree 
to  recover  her  strength,  while  her  thoughtful  mother  went  to  the 
raspberry-patch  to  help  Aunt  Lucy  pick  raspberries,  both.,  for  tea 
that  evening  and  for  jam  to-morrow. ' 

And  when  Agnes  went,  just  before  dinner,  to  bring  her  child 
home,  she  found  the  tenant's  little  daughter — whom  she  had  seen 
in  the  hayfield  the  day  before — on  her  knees  before  the.  beautiful 
stranger  in  rapt  admiration.  She  was  holding  by  the  arm  a  doll 
made  out  of  a  round  white  radish,  of  great  size  for  a  radish  :  this 
was  the  head ;  the  body  and  arms  were  merely  two  sticks  lashed 
together  at  right  angles  ;  and  this  very  primitive  doll  had  on  for 
her  sole  garment  an  equally  primitive  calico  frock,  which  had  a 
good  deal  more  pinning  and  tying  than  sewing  about  it. 

Little  Sally's  admiration  for  the  city  lady  was  so  sincere,  and  at 
the  same  time  so  free  of  envy  or  of  dislike  to  her  own  home- 
made doll,  that  Agnes  resolved,  if  Aunt  Lucy  would  help  her — and 
of  course  she  would — to  make  and  dress  a  good  large  "rag-  doll," 
neatly  shaped   and  with  a   face  painted,   instead  of  cut  in   gashes. 


This  was  successfully  done  before 
Agnes  went  home,  and  her  hap- 
piest recollection  of  that  overfiow- 
ingly  happy  visit  was  the  beaming 
face  of  little  Sally  as  she 
clasped  her  new  treasure  to 
her  heart  and  promised  to 
"  be  the  very  best  mother 
in  all  the  world  to  her, 
and  to  name  her  Atmes." 

Aunt  Lucy  had  known 
Sally  ever  since  she  was  a 
baby;  she  knew  her  to  be 
a  gentle  and  well-behaved 
little  girl,  and  so  she  was 
very  glad  for  Agnes 
to  have  some  or 


2  20  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

near  her  own  age  for  a  playmate.  Hand  in  hand  the  two  little 
girls  wandered  about  the  place  when  Agnes  was  not  busy  "help- 
ing"— from  the  old-fashioned  kitchen-garden,  where  wall-fruit  and 
vegetables  and  beds  of  sweet  herbs  grew,  through  the  arch  to  the 
large  front  yard,  where  nothing  was  permitted  to  grow  but  grass 
and  trees  and  ornamental  shrubs,  with  one  large  bed  of  bright 
flowers  in  the  middle  of  the  lawn.  Agnes  rather  pitied  Cecil 
because  he  had  not  found  a  friend  too,  but  he  told  her  she  needn't 
be  uneasy — that  everybody  was  his  friend,  from  Aunt  Lucy  down 
to  Jet,  the  beautiful  black  setter.  Jet  was  a  rather  reserved  dog, 
devoted  to  his  master  and  mistress,  and  to  Joe,  the  faithful  "head- 
man," who  stayed  at  the  farm  the  year  round. 

"  You  and  little  Miss  Agnes  ought  to  feel  very  proud  that  Jet's 
taken  to  you  so,  Master  Cecil,"  said  Joe  gravely.  He  was  taking 
his  "  noon-spell "  on  a  shady  bank,  with  Jet  at  his  feet,  and,  having 
finished  his  dinner,  was  whittling  out  for  Cecil  one  of  the  willow 
whistles  for  which  he  was  justly  famous. 

"Jet's  a  little  like  me,"  continued  Joe;  "he  don't  take  up  with 
everybody  that  comes  along  before  he  sees  what  they're  like  ;  but 
once  let  him  settle  in  his  mind  that  he'll  be  friends  with  any  one, 
and  he  is  friends  for  all  time  ;"  and  Joe  tested  his  whistle  with  a 
long,  shrill  blast  that  made  Jet  start  to  his    feet  in  astonishment. 

The  harvesting  was  finished,  and  the  lon^  table,  made  of  trestles 
and  boards,  was  spread  in  the  orcharJ  for  the  harvest-home  supper. 
And  what  a  merry  supper  it  was  !     Aunt  Lucy's  gentle  face  at  the 


"JOE   WAS    WHITTING   OUT    A    WILLOW    WHISTLE   FOR   CECIL."  See  PaEe  220 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


head  of  the  table  kept  the  merriment  within  pleasant  bounds  ;  and 
Uncle  John  told  stories  ;  and  Joe,  after  a  great  deal  of  persuasion, 
sang  a  song;  and  Cecil,  by  special  request,  recited  "Marco  Boz- 
zaris  "  with  appropriate  gestures,  that  being  his  last  declamation 
before  he  left  school.  1  he  great  moon  was  rising  behind  the  trees 
before  the  company  rose  from  the  table,  and  they  had  hardly  sep- 
arated before  Joe  came  to  the  front  porch — where  Aunt  Lucy  and 
Uncle  John  and  the  children  had  seated  themselves  to  enjoy  the 
moonlight  for  a  while  before  going  to  bed — in  a  great  state  of 
excitement,  to  say  that  a  herd  of  deer  was  coming  down  the  hill 
to  the  pond  in  the  newly-cleared  ground  just  above  the  house,  and 
that  if  the  children  would  come  with  him  very  softly  along  the  edge 
of  the  wood,  they  might  perhaps  get  a  sight  of  them,  as  the  wind 
was  blowing-  toward  the  wood,  and  so  the  deer  would  not  scent 
them.  The  children  had  often  heard  that  there  were  deer  in  the 
tract  of  wild  land  on  top  of  the  hill,  but  they  had  never  had  the 
good  luck  to  see  them,  and  they  sprang  up  in  great  delight  and 
followed  Joe  to  the  edge  of  the  wood,  stealing  along  in  the  moon- 
light like  conspirators  bent  on  mischief.  They  hid  themselves 
behind  a  clump  of  bushes,  through  which  they  could  peep,  and  had 
only  waited  a  few  minutes  when  the  herd  went  softly  stepping  past.. 
Two  beautiful  fawns,  a  little  more  than  half  grown,  came  first,  then 
the  doe,  and  last,  like  the  rear-guard  of  an  army,  a  stag  with  mag- 
nificent branching  antlers.  Although  Joe  and  the  children  stood 
perfectly  still,  almost  holding  their  breath  as  the  deer  passed,  the 


224- 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


pretty  creatures  seemed   to   have   an   instinctive   feeling   that  their 
solitude  was  invaded.     They  turned  their  heads  toward  the  thicket. 

sniffing  the  air 
with  a  distrust- 
ful, startled  ex- 
pression, but 
they  did  not  run  ; 
and  when  they 
had  passed  out 
of  sight  Agnes 
said  softly,  "  Let 
us  go  home  very 
quietly,  or  they'll 
be  scared  away 
before  they  have 
had  their  drink." 
The  children 
never  forgot  the 
beautiful  moon- 
lit picture  which 
the  deer  had 
made. 


'TWO  FAWNS,  THEN  THE  DOE,  AND  THEN  THE  STAG.' 


"  I  have  ever  so  many  lovely  things  hung  up  in  my  head  to  keep 
looking  at  after  I  go  home,  Aunt  Lucy,"  said  Agnes  the  next  day 
when  she  was  describing  the  herd  of  deer  to  her  aunt  and  trying  to 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


225 


make    her    understand    that    the    moonlight   made   them   look   like 
"fairy  deer." 

After  the  harvest  was  over  there  was  time  for  a  day's  fishing, 


"AN   OLD  MILL  WHICH  WAS   FAST  TURNING  INTO  A   PICTURESQUE  RUIN." 

which  had  been  postponed  because  "  it  would  keep  "  and  the  fun 
and  festivities  of  harvest  would  not.  It  was  to  be  a  picnic  as  well 
as  a  fishing-excursion,  and  Aunt  Lucy  and  Uncle  John  had  prom- 
ised to   give   up   a  whole   day  to   it.     Beef  was   roasted,  and   eggs 

15 


2  26  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

were  boiled,  and  cake  was  made,  the  day  before,  and  Joe  brought 
in  a  great  basketful  of  raspberries  while  they  were  at  breakfast. 
Four  or  five  miles  higher  up  the  hill — which,  if  it  had  stood  alone 
instead  of  in  a  chain,  would  have  been  called  a  very  respectable 
mountain — was  an  old  mill  which  had  not  been  running  for  several 
years,  and  which  was  fast  turning  into  a  very  picturesque  ruin.  It 
had  been  stopped  by  a  singular  accident,  and  one  at  which  the 
miller  had  grumbled  more  than  a  little.  A  tunnel  had  been  cut 
through  the  hill,  and,  as  the  miller  said,  had  "  knocked  the  bottom 
out  of  the  springs  "  which  had  fed  his  mill-stream.  There  was  still 
a  tiny  stream,  except  in  very  dry  weather,  and  a  pretty  pond  was 
left,  having  been,  fortunately,  in  a  sort  of  natural  basin  a  little  to 
one  side  of  the  tunnel.  Behind  the  mill  was  a  grove  of  beautiful 
oak  and  hickory  trees,  with  short,  velvety  grass  growing  under- 
neath them ;  and  it  was  here  that  Aunt  Lucy  settled  herself  with 
a  new  book  and  her  knitting  while  Uncle  John  went  with  the  chil- 
dren to  the  deepest  side  of  the  pond  and  helped  them  fish.  They 
caught  enough  perch  and  sunfish  to  make  a  tempting  hot  dish  to 
add  to  the  cold  dinner,  and  Uncle  John  showed  them  how  to  wrap 
the  fish  in  leaves  and  roast  them  in  hot  ashes.  It  was  a  long, 
happy  day,  and  to  the  little  city  children  the  perfect  stillness  and 
remoteness  of  the  place  formed  its  chief  beauty.  Sitting  in  the 
grove  and  looking  down  the  hill,  not  a  single  house  was  in  sight, 
and,  as  Cecil  said,  it  seemed  as  if  they  were  "  thousands  of  miles 
away  from  everywhere."     They  had  brought  little  Sally  with  them, 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


;27 


and  after  dinner  was  over  and  the  baskets  repacked  they  wandered 
through  the  old  mill,  playing  "  Hide  and  Seek,"  and  "  Follow  my 
Leader."  Uncle  [ohn  made  the  best  "  leader ;"  he  did  nothing 
which  the  children  found  it  impossible  to  follow,  but  he  went  from 
one  thing  to  another  with  such  quickness  and  agility  that  the  chil- 


"A  FROG   HAD   FALLEN   INTO  THE  CLUTCHES  OF  A   WHITE  GOOSE." 

dren  had  brisk  work  to  follow  him.  When  they  were  quite  tired 
out  thev  rested  on  the  bank,  watching  a  flock  of  gfeese  and  ducks 
that  were  paddling  in  the  pond.  An  unwary  frog  had  fallen  into 
the  clutches  of  the  largest  white  goose,  and  the  rest  of  the  flock 
had  determined  to  share  the  prize.  The  white  goose  was  equally 
determined  to  keep  it  for  herself,  and  she  very  nearly  choked  as 

15 


2  28  HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


she  paddled  off,  swallowing  the  poor  frog  with  all  her  might  while 
she  tried  to  keep  ahead  of  the  others. 

"  If  it  was  anybody  but  a  goose,"  said  Agnes  indignantly,  "  she'd 
be  ashamed  to  be  so  selfish  and  greedy." 

Uncle  John  laughed  a  little.  "  That's  a  good  thing  to  remem- 
ber," he  said. 

They  stayed  till  dusk,  eating  supper  while  it  was  still  broad  day- 
light, and  winding  slowly  down  the  hill  just  as  the  sun  had  set  and 
while  the  sky  was  still  beautiful  with  the  "after-glow."  The  moon 
rose  just  before  they  reached  home.  Aunt  Lucy  had  been  per- 
suaded to  sing,  the  rest  joined  in  whenever  they  knew  the  tunes 
and  Joe  told  them,  as  he  helped  them  out  of  the  wagon,  that  it  was 
"as  good  as  a  concert."  To  the  children  it  was  better  than  the 
best  concert  they  had  ever  heard. 

The  happy  days  flew  by,  full  of  different  plans  and  occupations. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Holman  were  coming  for  the  last  half  of  the  month, 
and  after  they  arrived  there  were  daily  walks  and  drives,  and  more 
picnics,  and  another  fishing-party  to  a  "  real  "  trout-stream  on  one 
of  the  other  hills,  where  the  streams  had  not  had  "  the  bottom 
knocked  out  of  them." 

It  was  hard  work  to  leave  the  lovely  Hill  Farm,  even  with  the 
hope  of  returning  next  year  and  of  the  winter  visit  from  Uncle 
John  and  Aunt  Lucy  in  the  interval.  Mr.  Holman  was  so  touched 
by  the  sorrow  of  his  children  at  being  obliged  to  return  to  the 
crowded  city  that  he  promised  solemnly  that  the  minute  he  owned 


A     COUNTRY   MONTH. 


229 


a  million  dollars  he  would  buy  a  whole  mountain  as  near  the  Hill 
Farm  as  he  could  find  one  for  sale,  build  a  palatial  mansion  on  it, 
take  lessons  in  farming,  and  move  everything  and  everybody 
belonging  to  him  up  there  "for  good." 

"Ah,  papa,"  said  Agnes  mournfully  when  this  brilliant  plan  had 
been  fully  discussed,  "  do  you  know  what  Joe  used  to  say  when  we 
believed  '  as  many  as  six  impossible  things  before  breakfast '  ?  He 
used  to  say,  '  When  the  sky  falls  we  shall  catch  larks  ;'  and  I'm 
afraid  this  beautiful  fairy  lark  won't  be  caught  till  the  sky 
falls." 


OLD   NURSE. 


H,  there's  plenty  of  fun  in  summer, 

As  long  as  the  long  days  last, 
And  when  they  are  at  the  longest 

They  only  go  too  fast. 
We  wade  in  the  brook  together, 

We  scatter  the  new-mown  hay, 
And  yet  we  are  never  sorry 

When  there  comes  a  rainy  day. 


The  clouds  bring  rain  to  the  flowers, 

But  they  do  not  bring  us  gloom, 
For  we  run  between  the  showers, 

To  old  Nurse's  house  and  room. 
She  sits  there  all  day  spinning, 

But  her  wheel  forgets  to  whirl 
As  she  tells  us  tales  beginning, 

"When  I  was  a  little  girl." 


23d 


Sometimes  she  tells  of  the  "  good  folk," 
Who,  ever  so  long  ago, 


OLD     NURSE. 


Were  alive  in  her  dear  old  Ireland, 
And  helped  good  people  so; 

And  sometimes  of  the  famine; 
And  no  matter  how  hard  we  try 


"SOMETIMES   SHE   TELLS   OF   THE   'GOOD    FOLKS.' 

To  help  it,  the  things  she  tell  us 
Of  the  famine  make  us  cry. 


To  think  of  the  little  babies, 
So  innocent  and  sweet, 


HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


Dying  slowly,  only  just  because 
There  was  not  enough  to  eat ! 

I  do  not  like  rice-pudding, 

But  I've  eaten  it  since  she  told 

Of  those  hapless  people  in  Ireland 
Pinched  with  hunger  and  cold. 


When  our  wading  makes  us  hungry- 

We  are  not  hard  to  make — 
We  run  to  Nurse,  and  beg-  her 

For  some  of  her  oatmeal  cake  : 
That  always  seems  to  please  her, 

And  she  gives  us,  too,  "a  sup," 
As  she  says,  of  buttermilk  with  it, 

In  a  queer  old  earthen  cup. 

So  we're  never  tired  of  watching 

Her  wheel  as  she  makes  it  whirl, 
Nor  of  the  tales  beginning, 

"When  I  was  a  little  girl." 
And  we  love  to  hear  her  tell  us, 

"  When  I  see  my  lassies  thrive 
And  grow  so  bright  and  winsome, 

It  keeps  my  heart  alive." 


FATHER   CHRISTMAS. 


w 


HEN  grandpa  came  to  live  with  us  we  were 
all  very  glad,  for  we  had  never  had  enough 
of  him  when  he  only  came  for  visits  or  when 
we  went  to  visit  him  ;  and  we  all  of  us,  down 
to  the  baby,  who  doesn't  at  all  like  to  be  called 
"  the  baby,"  and  says  her  name  is  Paulina, 
helped  to  make  his  room  look  pretty.  Ailie 
and  the  little  boys  and  Bertha  and.  May  and  I 
brought  some  of  our  treasures  to  put  on  the 
wall-cabinet,  and  Paulina — whom  we  call  Polly 
when  we  don't  call  her  "the  baby  " — brought 
an  old  wreath  of  green  leaves  out  of  mamma's  done-with  bonnet. 
Polly  had  been  wearing  it  all  day,  and  was  very  proud  of  it,  and' 
she  said  she  was  going  to  "  div  it  to  dranpa  "  because  it  was  the- 
best  thin?  she  had.  So  mamma  would  not  let  us  lauodi  at  her,,  and 
put  the  wreath  on  the  bureau,  where  grandpa  would  be  sure  to 
see  it.  He  came  in  the  morning,  while  we  were  in  the  school-room 
saying  our  lessons  to  Ailie.  She  has  school  for  us  every  day,,  and 
mamma  says  that  as  long  as  we  behave  for  her  and  really  learm  our 
lessons  we  need  not  go  to  a  real  school,  though  Ailie   says   that  is 


2.".3 


234 


HOLIDA  YS    A  T    HOME. 


not  a  compliment  to  her,  and  that  if  six  scholars  and  a  teacher 
don't  make  a  school,  she'd  like  to  know  what  does.  It  was  a  very 
cold  day  the  day  grandpa  came,  and  mamma  and  Ailie  had  been 
busy  up  to  the  day  before  making  him  a  beautiful  new  wrapper  of 
some  thick,  soft,  warm  stuff  all  trimmed  with  fur.  When  school 
was  out  we  all  rushed  to  the  library  to  see  if  grandpa  was  there, 
and  before  we  could  draw  the  curtains  he  must  have  heard  us,  for 
he  pushed  them  open  and  stood  there  laughing,  with  his  new  wrap- 
per on  and  Polly's  wreath  on  his  head.  How  we  all  laughed  and 
shouted,  and  how  he  hugged  and  kissed  us  ! 

All  of  a  sudden  Ailie  said,  "Grandpa,  what  a  magnificent  Kriss- 
Kringle  you'd  make,  just  as  you  are !  Your  name  ought  to  be 
'  Father  Christmas,'  instead  of  Grandfather  Hamilton." 

So  then  we  all  shouted,  "  Father  Christmas  !  Father  Christmas  !" 
until  mamma  came  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  and  said  that  if 
we  made  such  a  dreadful  noise  grandpa  would  go  straight  away 
again. 

But  he  only  laughed  and  said,  "  Not  while  it's  a  good-humored 
noise,  Polly  my  dear."  For  he  calls  mamma  "Polly,"  and  it  always 
sounds  so  funny  to  us — as  if  mamma  were  only  a  little  girl ! 

When  we  were  quiet  again,  grandpa  said,  "  If  I  am  Father 
Christmas,  I  think  I  have  a  right  to  say  a  little  about  my  festival, 
but  I  will  not  say  it  now.  I  will  only  tell  all  these  people  who  have 
given  me  my  new  name  that  they  may  have  to  pay  for  it  before 
Christmas  comes." 


■GRANDPA  STOOD  THERE ...  WITH    POLLY'S  WREATH    ON   HIS   HEAD." 

See  Page  234. 


FATHER    CHRISTMAS.  237 


We  were  not  very  much  afraid,  and  we  told  him  so,  but  he 
laughed  and  shook  his  head  at  us,  and  told  us  just  to  wait. 

Two  or  three  days  afterward,  when  we  came  to  tea,  we  each 
found  a  note  on  our  plate,  and  on  it  was  printed,  after  our  names, 
"To  be  opened  when  you  are  quite  alone." 

We  could  scarcely  eat  our  suppers,  we  were  in  such  a  hurry  to 
read  the  notes  and  to  see  what  it  was  that  made  them  so  heavy. 

I  can't  tell  you  what  was  in  the  others,  except  by  guessing,  but 
this  was  in  mine  :  "  Will  my  little  Lou  try,  between  this  and  Christ- 
mas, to  overcome,  with  the  dear  Lord's  help,  the  temper  which 
gives  mamma  and  herself  so  much  pain  ?  That  will  be  a  most  joy- 
ful present  for  mamma.  For  others  spend  thoughtfully  what  you 
find  herein,  and  make  it  give  as  much  pleasure  as  it  can." 

And  out  of  the  envelope,  as  I  opened  it,  had  fallen  a  brand-new, 
shiny  five-dollar  gold-piece. 

I  cried  a  little  at  first.  I  knew  I  had  a  bad  temper,  but,  some- 
how, I  always  made  myself  believe  that  anybody  would  have  got 
angry  about  the  things  that  made  me  "  fly  out,"  and  I  felt  dread- 
fully ashamed  to  think  that  grandpa  should  have  found  out  about 
me  so  soon  ;  and  then  I  began  to  think  :  "  If  I  am  ashamed  for 
grandpa  to  know  it,  how  can  I  bear  to  remember  that  the  dear 
Lord  knows  it  all  the  time  ?"  I  began  to  try  that  very  day  harder 
than  I  had  ever  tried  before  to  overcome  my  temper;  and  although 
it  often  seems  to  me  that  I  grow  worse,  instead  of  better,  mamma 
says    that  that  is   because  I  watch    myself   so   much   more  closely 


2^8  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


now  than  I  ever  did  before.  She  always  has  something  encourag- 
ing to  say.  I  thought  I  had  better  tell  her  about  my  money  ;  and  I 
think  the  rest  must  have  done  it  too,  from  what  I  saw  afterward. 
You  see,  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  whether  I  had  better  count 
my  people  and  divide  it  equally,  and  buy  each  one  a  little  present 
out  and  out,  or  whether  I  had  better  buy  worsteds  and  silks  and 
things  and  make  such  of  my  presents  as  I  could  :  there  was  still 
plenty  of  time  before  Christmas.  So  mamma  said  that  if  I  could 
think  of  nice  things  to  make  my  money  would  go  a  great  deal 
further,  and  she  thought  of  several  things,  and  went  with  me  to 
buy  the  materials  ;  so  that,  with  what  I  bought  and  what  I  made,  I 
had  ten  presents  to  give  away  that  Christmas — more  than  I  had 
ever  had  before. 

Fred  can  cut  out  animals  and  birds  and  dolls  very  nicely,  and  I 
soon  found  that  he  had  plenty  of  nice  thick  bristol-board  and  some 
new  paints  ;  and  in  the  evening,  after  Bertha  and  May,  Polly  and 
Will,  had  gone  to  bed,  mamma  let  him  stay  up  half  an  hour  longer, 
and  he  made  all  the  animals  for  two  Noah's  arks  and  beautiful  dolls 
for  Bertha  and  May  and  Polly.  I  don't  know  how  or  when  he 
managed  it,  but  he  made  something  for  nearly  all  of  us — he  can 
draw  and  paint  and  cut  out  so  nicely — and  that  left  him  enough 
money  to  get  a  beautiful  present  for  mamma.  We  never  had  such 
a  nice  Christmas  before.  It  would  take  too  long--  to  tell  about  the 
different  things  we  made,  but  I  must  tell  how  we  begged  grandpa 
on   Christmas    Day   to   put    on   his    fur-trimmed   wrapper,   and   we 


FA  THER     CHRISTMAS. 


239 


crowned  him  with  a  wreath  of  laurel  and  holly-berries — holly  would 
have  been  prettier,  but  we  were  afraid  it  would  stick  his  head — and 


1  FRED  CAN  CUT  OUT  ANIMALS  VERY  NICELY.' 


he  sat  at  the   head   of  the   table   in    the  great   chair  which   mamma 
and  papa  had  given  him,  with  a  beautiful  "tidy"  on  its   back  which 


240 


HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


one  of  us  had  made,  and  a  beautiful  footstool  which  another  of  us 
had  worked. 

It  was  a  lovely  Christmas  altogether.  I  am  afraid  that  before 
that  Christmas  we  had  always  thought  more  of  what  people  would 
give  us  than  what  we  should  give  them,  and  now  we  had  been  so 
busy  planning  and  making  things  that  when  our  presents  came 
they  were  almost  like  a  surprise. 

And  the  only  thing  that  any  of  us  could  possibly  think  of  to  be 
sorry  about  was  that  grandpa  had  not  been  with  us  always  ;  but  he 
would  not  let  us  say  that ;  he  said  he  would  give  us  instead  his 
favorite  quotation:  '  Look  not  mournfully  into  the  past ;  it  comes 
not  back  again  :  wisely  improve  the  present ;  it  is  thine.  Go  forth 
to  meet  the  shadowy  future  without  fear  and  with  a  manly  heart." 


THE    BABES    IN    THE    WOOD. 


kJSx 


kR.  BUNNY  and  his  wife  and  their  family 
of  eight  children  were  most  comfortably 
lodged  and  boarded.  They  had  a  large, 
pleasant  hutch,  with  a  house  for  rainy 
weather  and  plenty  of  burrowing-ground 
for  clear  days.  Their  little  master  never 
neglected  or  lorgot  them  ;  there  was 
always  plenty  of  iood,  both  green  and 
dry,  in  the  trough  and  in  the  rack,  and 
the  earthen  pan  was  filled  twice  a  day 
with  clean  water.  When  they  had  first 
come  to  live  in  the  hutch,  before  any  of 
their  children  were  born,  they  had  been  fright- 
ened and  uneasy,  and  had  tried  to  scratch 
a  hole  and  make  their  way  out;  but  they  found,  on  whichever 
side  they  began  to  dig,  unpleasant  coal-ashes  and  hard  wooden: 
stakes,  whereas  when  they  dug  in  the  middle  of  the  hutch  there 
was  only  nice  soft  earth  ;  so,  as  they  found  that  they  were  well  fed1 
and  cared  for,  they  soon  contented  themselves  with  making  burrows- 
where  the  earth  was  soft,  and  before  long-  had  a  fine  range  of  cellars 


:J: 


16 


241 


242  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


under  the  whole  length  of  the  hutch.  And  as  soon  as  their  chil- 
dren were  old  enough  to  listen  to  advice — which  with  rabbits  is 
very  soon — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bunny  told  them  all  about  it,  and  advised 
them  not  to  waste  their  energies  in  trying  to  dig  through  coal- 
ashes  and  sticks,  but  rather  to  go  on  improving  the  cellars,  in 
which  there  was  always  plenty  of  work  for  willing  paws.  Sometimes 
an  important  passage-way  would  cave  in,  or  they  would  find  that  a 
little  extra  digging  would  make  a  short  cut,  or  they  would  decide 
that  the  underground  dining-room  was  not  large  enough,  and  then 
all  the  paws  would  fall  to  work.  But  two  of  the  eight  children 
unfortunately  heard  a  little  girl  who  was  watching  them  say  to 
their  owner,  "If  /  was  a  rabbit,  I'd  never  stay  in  a  little  place 
like  this;   I'd  scratch  out." 

"  But  suppose  you  had  to  scratch  through  coal-ashes  and  sticks  ?" 
said  the  boy,  laughing. 

"  I'd  not  mind  the  coal-ashes,"  persisted  the  little  girl,  "and  I'd 
hunt  round  till  I  found  a  place  between  the  sticks  :  there  must  be 
places." 

Snip  and  Snap,  who  were  the  only  ones  above  ground,  looked 
at  one  another :  here  was  a  brand-new  idea !  They  whispered 
together  a  good  deal  that  day,  and  when  night  came  and  the  rest 
of  the  family  were  asleep,  they  began  to  dig  on  the  side  where  the 
earth  felt  softest.  They  soon  came  to  the  ashes  ;  the  hard  bits  of 
coal  hurt  their  poor  little  paws  dreadfully,  but  they  encouraged 
each  other,  taking  turns  with  the  digging,  and  when  they  struck  a 


THE    BABES    IN    THE     WOOD.  245 

stake  they  went  so  carefully  just  on  one  side  of  it  that  they  man- 
aged to  make  a  narrow  passage,  barely  large  enough  for  one  at  a 
time  to  squeeze  through.  But  their  hard  task  had  taken  longer 
than  they  thought,  and  as  first  Snip,  and  then  Snap,  came  wearily 
out  of  the  hole  into  the  yard,  it  was  broad  daylight,  and  they  heard 
footsteps  coming  down  the  gravel-walk.  They  scuttled  under  a 
thick  evergreen,  and  were  barely  hidden  when  the  boy  came  up 
to  the  hutch. 

"  Hallo  !"  he  said  ;  ■"  here's  a  bad  business  !  I  did  think  I'd  fixed 
them  so  that  they  couldn't  scratch  out  this  time." 

And,  being  a  wise  boy,  he  first  repaired  the  breach,  so  that  the 
other  rabbits  might  not  escape,  and  then  went  to  look  for  the  two 
missing  ones,  who  by  this  time  had  stolen  along  under  the  hedge, 
and  were  safely — as  they  thought — out  in  the  fields. 

Meanwhile,  poor  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bunny  were  nearly  distracted 
with  alarm  and  anxiety.  They  could  not  go  themselves  in  search 
of  their  disobedient  children,  but  they  begged  a  sparrow,  who  had 
frequently  and  by  invitation  shared  their  meals,  to  fly  about  the 
neighborhood  and  see  if  he  could  discover  the  wanderers,  and  tell 
them  that  if  they  would  come  home  all  would  be  forgiven. 

The  sparrow  obligingly  undertook  the  search,  and  as  he  went 
peeping  about  under  bushes  and  leaves  he  met  a  large  horned 
beetle.  The  beetle,  who  had  reasons  for  distrusting  birds,  was  at 
first  not  inclined  to  be  sociable,  but  a  few  pleasant  remarks  from 
the  sparrow — who  had  no  desire  to  eat  anything  so  hard  and  horny 


246  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

as  the  beetle — soon  reassured  him,  and  he  agreed  to  report  to  the 
sparrow  if  he  should  see  anything  of  the  truant  rabbits. 

Poor  little  Snip  and  Snap  were  already  repenting  their  rash 
act. 

"What  a  very  large  place  out-of-doors  is!"  whispered  Snip  as 
they  cautiously  crept  along  under  a  fence  in  the  field  adjoining 
the  garden. 

"  It's  a  great  deal  too  large,"  replied  Snap  piteously.  "  Suppose 
anything  were  to  chase  us,  where  could  we  hide?  There'd  be  no 
time  to  dig  a  burrow,  and —     Oh,  my  goodness!  what's  that?" 

It  was  only  two  nice  little  girls  sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  field 
trying  each  other  under  the  chin  with  buttercups  to  see  if  they 
loved  butter,  and  laughing  when  they  found  that  they  both  did. 
But  rabbits  with  guilty  consciences  are  easily  frightened,  and  Snip 
and  Snap  fled  for  their  lives.  When  they  at  last  stopped  running 
it  seemed  to  them  that  they  must  have  gone  miles,  and  they  did 
not  in  the  least  know  where  they  were.  They  were  tired  out  and 
hungry  and  thirsty,  but  they  were  afraid  to  eat  any  of  the  green 
things  around  them,  because  they  did  not  look  in  the  least  like  the 
food  which  the  boy  had  brought  them  every  day.  They  crouched 
under  a  hedge  until  it  began  to  grow  dark,  and  then  stole  timidly 
out  into  the  field  and  nibbled  at  several  plants,  afraid  to  eat  much 
of  any  of  them.  They  were  faint  with  fatigue  and  hunger,  and 
presently  Snip  said,  "  I  do  believe  that  last  leaf  I  tried  was  poison- 
ous; I  feel  very  queer  indeed." 


THE    BABES    IN    THE     WOOD.  249 

"  Oh,  please  don't  die,  Snip,"  wailed  poor  little  Snap ;  "  perhaps 
we  can  find  our  way  back  to-morrow,  but  I  never  could  find  it  by 
myself." 

"Well,  I'll  try  not  to  die,"  said  Snip,  drowsily;  and  he  put  his 
paw  around  Snap's  neck.  They  both  fell  asleep,  for  they  were 
quite  worn  out,  and  there  the  sparrow  found  them  the  next  morn- 
ing ;  the  beetle  had  stumbled  on  them  in  the  night,  and  had  gone 
to  tell  the  sparrow  as  soon  as  it  was  light.  They  lay  so  still  and 
looked  so  forlorn  that  the  sparrow  thought  at  first  they  were  dead, 
but  he  soon  saw  that  they  were  breathing,  and  he  waited  patiently 
till  they  woke.  He  had  meant  to  tell  them  just  what  he  thought 
of  them  on  the  way  home,  but,  as  he  said  afterward,  he  "  hadn't  the 
heart  to."  They  were  so  broken-hearted,  and  so  thankful  to  him 
for  taking  them  home,  that  he  did  not  scold  them  at  all.  And  when 
the  boy  came  out  to  give  the  Bunny  family  its  breakfast,  there  were 
the  two  truants  meekly  waiting  outside  the  hutch,  and  only  too 
happy  when  he  picked  them  up  and  put  them  in.  Mrs.  Bunny 
nearly  fainted  for  joy,  and  when  Snip  and  Snap  saw  how  ill  she  and 
Mr.  Bunny  looked,  and  heard  how  much  wretchedness  and  anxiety 
their  escape  had  caused,  they  could  scarcely  eat  their  breakfast  for 
crying,  hungry  as  they  were,  and  they  promised  solemnly  never  to 
do  such  a  dreadful  thing  again. 

And  if  the  boy  had  only  known  this,  and  known  what  a  deep 
impression  the  affair  made  upon  the  other  six  little  Bunnies,  he 
would  have  been  saved  the  trouble  of  digging  another  and  deeper 


'•5° 


HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


trench  around  the  rabbit-hutch,  and  filling  it  with  coal- ashes,  and 
driving  down  a  whole  lot  of  sticks  beside  the  ones  already  there. 
But  until  either  people  grow  clever  enough  to  understand  what 
birds  and  beasts  say,  or  the  birds  and  beasts  learn  to  talk  English 
and  French  and  ever  so  many  more  languages  much  more  difficult 
than  their  own,  I  am  afraid  there  will  continue  to  be  misunder- 
standings and  mistakes. 


A    MAYFLOWER. 


T  TNDERNEATH  a  pine  tree,  sheltered 

^  from  the  north  wind, 

Where  the  frost  repented  and  melted 
into  dew, 
And    the    south   wind    murmured    hopes 
about  the  summer, 
Which    was    surely    coming,    a    little 
Mayflower  grew. 

All   the   wood   was   silent,    for   the   trees 
were  listening 
For  the  south  wind's  whisper  that  the 
time  had  come 

When  the  baby-leaves  they  held,  sheathed  from  frost  so  safely, 
Might  dance  out  to  the  music  of  the  wild  bee's  hum. 


But  the  Mayflower  ventured  long  before  the  leaves  might, 
For  she  had  an  errand,  and  she  knew  not  fear  ; 

Stooping  from  the  treetops  to  the  ground,  the  south  wind 
Told  to  her  a  secret  which  the  tall  trees  did  not  hear. 


251 


HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


Hardly  had  the  last  bud  opened  to  the  sun's  kiss 

When  a  shout  of  rapture  broke  the  silence  of  the  wood  : 
"  Here  it  is,  the  first  one,  and  a  perfect  beauty ! 
Oh,  I  meant  to  find  one — I  was  sure  I  could." 

Eagerly  but  tenderly  slender  fingers  clasped  her, 
While  the  pine  tree  murmured,  moui  nfully  and  low, 
"  Do  not  leave  me,  darling  ;  you  will  only  wither. — 
Little  child,  dear  little  child,  please  to  let  her  go  " 

But  the  little  maiden  gently  plucked  the  flower, 

Only  saying  to  herself,  "  How  the  pine  trees  sigh  !" 

While  the  Mayflower  whispered,  "  Mother,  Mother  Pine  Tree, 
Trust  me  with  her ;  I  am  not  afraid  of  her.     Good-bye." 

Then  the  little  flower,  feeling  strangely  drowsy, 

Fell  asleep  in  peaceful  faith  that  naught  would  go  amiss  : 

Nothing  more  she  knew  until,  to  a  burst  of  music, 
Suddenly  she  wakened,  thrilling  through  with  bliss. 

Rose  triumphant  anthems  to  the  King  of  heaven 
From  the  white-robed  singers  and  the  organ's  voice. 
"  Was  not  this  worth  dying  for?"  thought  the  little  flower. 
"Was  I  worthy,  then,  of  this?     Oh,  my  heart,  rejoice!" 


•NOTHING   MORE  SHE   KNEW   UNTIL,  TO  A   BURST  OF  MUSIC." 


See  Page  252. 


A    MAYFLOWER. 


255 


Faint  she  grew  and  iainter,  fading  with  the  daylight, 

Heeding  not  the  faintness  in  her  ecstasy  divine. 
Better,  oh  far  better,"  with  her  dying  breath  she  murmured, 
"  One  short  hour  of  this  to  me  than  days  beneath  the  pine. 

Better  loving  service  than  all  peace  and  pleasure 

Where  the  south  wind  wanders  and  the  sunbeams  shine. 

Though  my  life  had  lasted  to  its  fullest  measure, 
It  had  never  reached  to  this  underneath  the  pine." 


AN    OLD-FASHIONED    FATHER. 


T'S  a  very  strange  thing,"  said  old  Mr.  Bull- 
frog, shaking  his  head,  "  and  a  very  sad  one 
too,  it  seems  to  me.  Our  family  used  to  be 
as  renowned  for  swimming  as  they  were  for 
croaking,  and  now  one  never  hears  about 
anything  but  the  croak." 

"Can you  swim,  father?"  asked  little  Hop 
in  a  subdued  voice  and  manner. 

Old  Mr.  Bullfrog  swelled  himself  up.  "  I  could  swim  perfectly 
when  I  was  your  age,  my  son,"  he  answered,  "  and  I  still  remember 
the  theory  quite  well  enough  to  teach  it.  •  If  your  mother  will  ex- 
cuse us  for  an  hour  or  two  this  evening,  you  and  Skip  shall  come 
with  me  a  little  way  up  the  bank,  where  the  water  is  deep,  and  I 
will  give  you  a  lesson." 

So  Mrs.  Bullfrog  gave  them  an  early  tea,  and  soon  after  Mr. 
Bullfrog  and  Hop  and  Skip  found  a  nice  place  where  the  bank 
went  off  suddenly;  and  there  Mr.  Bullfrog  sat  down  and  gave 
them  a  lecture  on  swimming.  His  instructions  were  delightfully 
clear  and  simple. 

"First    you    jump     in,"    he     said.       Hop    and    Skip   shuddered. 

256 


17 


MR    BULLFROG   TEACHING    HIS    YOUNGSTERS   TO   SWIM  See  Page  259. 


AN    OLD-FASHIONED    FATHER.  259 

"Then  you  draw  up  your  hind  legs,  like  this,"  he  continued,  "and 
shoot  them  out  suddenly,  like  that.  Well,  why  don't  you  do  it?" 
he  asked  impatiently. 

Hop  and  Skip  immediately  did  it,  all  but  the  jumping  in. 

"You  can't  swim  on  dry  land,"  said  their  father.  "Why  don't 
you  jump  in  ?" 

"It  makes  me  feel  all  gone  here,  just  to  think  of  it,"  said  Hop, 
putting  his  hand  on  his  stomach,  and  little  Skip  shrank  back  from 
the  edge  in  terror. 

"  Now,  this  is  all  nonsense,"  said  Mr.  Bullfrog  angrily.  "  If  you'll 
just  do  as  I  say,  and  not  as  I  do,  you'll  have  no  trouble  at  all.  I 
could  swim  like  a  duck  when  I  was  no  older  than  Skip. — You 
ought  to  set  your  little  brother  a  better  example,  Hop." 

"If  you'd  just  show  us  once,  father,"  said  Hop  meekly,  "I  think 
we  could  do  it:  we'd  see  then  that  it  could  be  done." 

Mr.  Bullfrog  sat  on  the  bank  and  thought  for  at  least  five   min 
utes.     And  while  he  was   thinking  he  remembered  that  when  his 
father  taught  him  things   he   said   "  Come  "   much  oftener  than   he 
said  "  Go,"  so  that   when  he  did  say  "  Go,"  Mr.   Bullfrog   had  has- 
tened to  mind  him. 

"  Come,  children,"  said  Mr.  Bullfrog  pleasantly ;  and,  jumping 
up  as  he  spoke,  he  "took  a  header"  from  the  bank,  and  came  up 
smiling,  though  he  was  puffing  and  blowing  too,  while  Hop  and 
Skip  looked  on  in  terror.  Mr.  Bullfrog  reached  up,  caught  Hop's 
leg,  and  pulled  him   into   the  water;    then   he  turned  and   swam 


260  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


gracefully  backward,  saying,  "  Come  on  now — swim  toward  me  ; 
you'll  not  sink,  and  if  you  do  I'll  catch  you." 

And  Hop,  when  he  recovered  from  his  first  scare,  found  that  he 
could  swim  quite  well,  and  enjoyed  it. 

"  You'll  not  do  me  that  way,  will  you,  father  ?"  implored  little 
Skip  from  the  bank  as  Mr.  Bullfrog  floated  upon  his  back. 

"Not  if  you'll  jump  in  without  it,  my  son,"  said  Mr.  Bullfrog 
encouragingly.  "Just  look  how  Hop's  enjoying  himself  out  there 
beyond  the  cat-tails.  Come — one!  two !  three!"  At  "three" 
Skip  actually  did  plunge  in,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  swimming 
gayly  about  with  his  brother  and  father. 

"Why,  you're  all  wet,  father!  did  you  go  in  too?"  asked  Mrs. 
Bullfrog  when  the  party,  in  great  spirits,  returned  home  about  an 
hour  later. 

"  Yes,  I  went  in  too,  mother,"  said  Mr.  Bullfrog,  smiling ;  "  and 
I'll  get  you  just  to  rub  me  down  with  a  burdock-leaf  if  you're  not 
too  tired :  I  don't  care  about  having  rheumatism  if  I  can  help  it, 
but  I  found  that  it's  much  easier  to  teach  swimming  in  water  than 
on  land." 


A   HOT   SUPPER. 


T  was  the  first  moth  of  the  season, 
and  a  very  large  one.     Five  young 
sparrows  all  saw  it  at  once,  and  each 
made  a  dart  for  it,  but  the  moth  had 
no  idea  of  being  eaten  by  one  spar- 
row, not  to  speak  of  five ;  so  he  flut- 
tered off  as   fast  as  his   rather  weak 
wings  could  carry  him,  and  then  be- 
gan a  hot  pursuit.    The  five  sparrows 
hustled  along,  beating  each  other  with 
their   wings,  making   rude    speeches, 
nipping  each    other's  toes,  each  one 
struggling  to  be  first  in  the  race.    Of 
course,  in  a  struggle  like  this   nobody  could   get  on  very  fast,  and 
the  moth,  who  had  been  greatly  terrified  at  first,  began  to  laugh  to 
himself  as  he  found  how  easily  he  could  keep  ahead  of  them  all. 

"I'll  just  lead  them  a  dance,"  he  said,  "quarrelsome  little 
wretches !  It's  lucky  for  me  it  isn't  Cock  Robin's  family,  where 
they  always  go  by  ages,  or  Jenny  Wren's,  where  the  one  who  can 
catch  anything  divides  it  with  the  rest.     It's  a   pretty  long  stretch 


261 


262  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 

to  the  belfry,  but  I  think  I  can  manage  it:  my  wings  feei  stronger 
than  they  did  when  I  started,  and  when  I  get  there  I  can  slip  in 
between  the  slats,  where  they  can't  possibly  follow." 

And,  chuckling  to  himself  as  he  thought  how  angry  and  dis- 
appointed the  sparrows  would  be,  he  flew  lightly  on,  sometimes 
pausing  a  moment  until  all  five  thought  they  were  sure-  of  him, 
and  then  flying  rapidly  to  make  the  chase  a  little  more  exciting  for 
them,  until  he  gained  the  belfry  without  over-fatiguing  himself  in 
the  least.  He  poised  himself  a  moment  on  a  twig  of  ivy,  and 
then,  just  as  the  whole  five  made  a  sort  of  hustling  rush  for  him  at 
once,  crawled  between  two  slats,  and  peeped  out  to  see  five  foolish- 
looking  sparrows,  very  much  out  of  breath  with  the  long  chase  and 
the  bump  which  they  had  given  themselves  against  the  belfry,  turn 
sullenly  about  and  begin  to  fly  wearily  home. 

"  Which  of  you  caught  it,  my  dears  ?"  asked  Cock  Robin  pleas- 
antly as  the  five  drooped  heavily  down  on  a  branch  near  his  door. 
He  had  seen  the  beginning  of  the  chase,  but  not  the  end. 

"We  didn't  any  of  us  catch  it."  said  the  oldest  sparrow 
angrily.  "  Td  have  caught  it  half  a  dozen  times  if  the  rest  would 
have  kept  back  and  given  me  half  a  chance  ;  but  they  all  pushed 
and  crowded  so  that  the  moth  got  away — selfish,  greedy  things  ! 
It  was  the  first  moth  of  the  season  too,  and  as  fat  as  butter!" 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Cock  Robin  quietly,  "  that  any  one  of  you 
could  have  caught  it  half  a  dozen  times  if  the  rest  had  kept  back 
and  given  him  half  a  chance.     We  can't  all  be  first  in  the  race, 


FIVE  YOUNG  SPARROWS  SAW   IT.  AND   EACH   MADE  A  DART   FOR   IT. 


See  Page  261. 


A    HOT   SUPPER.  26  = 


you  know,  but  there's  a  certain  pleasure  in  being  second  or  third 
or  fourth,  or  even  fifth,  if  somebody  we  love  is  first."  And,  poun- 
cing on  a  large  worm. which  was  engaged  in  measuring  the  tree 
upon  which  they  were  sitting,  Cock  Robin  said  "Good-evening" 
as  well  as  he  could  with  his  mouth  full,  and  took  the  worm  to  his 
family 

The  five  little  sparrows  looked  at  each  other.  They  felt  very 
much  ashamed  as  well  as  very  hungry. 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  the  oldest  sparrow  softly,  and  he  nestled  up  to 
the  next  one. 

"I'm  sorry  too,"  said  the  next;  and  so  it  went  on  until  all  five 
had  said  it,  and  were  sitting  so  close  together  on  the  bough  that 
they  looked  liked  one  large  sparrow  with  five  small  heads. 

Perhaps  you  think  that  they  meant  they  were  sorry  because  the 
moth  got  away  ?  No  doubt  they  were  sorry  for  that,  for  it  was  too 
late  now  to  catch  anything,  and  they  were  obliged  to  go  to  bed 
without  any  supper.  But,  somehow,  I  do  not  think  that  that  was 
exactly  what  they  meant,  and  Cock  Robin,  who  is  a  very  observ- 
ing bird,  does  not  think  so  either. 


ONE   STEP   AT   A   TIME. 


"\  "X  J"E  had  walked  so  far  since  morn- 

V  »      ingj 

For  you  see  we  were  too  poor 
To  hire  a  cart  to  take  us 

Across  the  lonely  moor. 
We  had  all  been  down  with  the  fever ; 

Mother  and  father  were  gone, 
And  grandmother  said,  "  My  Gertrude, 

We  must  make  our  way  to  John. 

We  will  sell  the  little  left  us  ; 

It  will  keep  us  till  we  get 
Some  work  to  do  in  the  village  ; 

I  can  do  a  day's  work  yet. 
And  John  has  room  in  his  cottage 

To  give  us  a  corner  there, 
And  he  and  his  wife  will  welcome  us, 

Though  it's  little  they  have  to  spare." 

We  seemed  to  get  no  farther, 

Though  we  had  walked  quite  fast, 


266 


■-! 


■,M 


ONE    STEP   AT   A     TIME.  269 

Till  I  saw  the  village-steeple, 

In  the  distance  still,  at  last. 
But  just  as  I  said,  "  Dear  grandma, 

Look,  yonder  is  the  town  !" 
She  turned  aside  to  a  furze-bank, 

And  wearily  sank  down. 


"  I  can  go  no  farther,  darling," 

She  said  to  me  with  a  groan  ; 
"  Leave  me  here,  my  little  Gertrude, 
And  go  you  on  alone. 
I  am  not  afraid  to  stay  here  ; 
Nothing  will  do  me  harm  ; 
And  maybe  John  will  come  for  me  : 

I  could  walk  with  his  stout  young  arm." 

But  I  was  not  going  to  leave  her. 
"  Oh,  grandma  dear,"  I  said, 
"Just  look  how  near  the  town  is, 
And  the  road  lies  straight  ahead. 
It  can't  be  far,  for,  listen, 

We  can  hear  the  church-bells  chime  ; 
Come,  lean  on  me  and  take  one  step — 
Just  one  step  at  a  time." 


270 


HOLIDAYS   AT    HOME. 


She  tottered  on,  I  leading, 

And  as  the  sun  went  down 
We  reached  the  little  cottage  : 

It  is  just  outside  the  town. 
How  uncle  and  aunt  did  kiss  us ! 

What  welcoming  words  they  said  ! 
There  never  was  such  a  supper 

Or  such  a  lovely  bed. 


^3^^5u^-  .-  S 


<L<.. 


"HE  PIPES  FOR  MY  DOLLY'S   DANCING.' 

Now  we  are  at  home  and  happy ; 

The  troubled  times  are  gone  ; 
I  spell  and  knit  with  grandma, 

And  play  with  little  John. 


ONE    STEP    AT   A     TIME. 


271 


He  pipes  for  my  dolly's  dancing, 
And  we  sing  to  her  this  rhyme : 
"  Dance  high,  dance  low,  wherever  you  go, 
You'll  always  have  to  take,  you  know, 
Just  one  step  at  a  time." 

And  when  the  little  children 

Who  go  with  us  to  school 
Say  they  cannot  learn  their  lessons 

Or  they  cannot  keep  a  rule, 
I  tell  them  about  our  journey, 

And  say,  "  To  walk  or  climb, 
To  study  or  work,  or  even  play, 

It's  one  step  at  a  time."     , 


'•  I  TELL  THEM  ABOUT  OUR  JOURNEY." 


THE    THREE    B'S. 


i  HEIR  mother  called  them  her  three 
B's,  because  their  names  were  Betty 
and  Bell  and  Bob ;  but  they  were  not 
always  busy  bees,  by  any  means. 
They  lived  in  a  small  house  near 
the  seashore,  and  they  could  spend 
whole  mornings  making  sand-forts 
and  houses  and  huntine  shells  and 
seaweed,  but  it  made  their  backs 
ache  dreadfully  to  do  a  little  weeding 
in  the  garden,  and  they  groaned  regularly  every  morning  when 
school-time  came.  And  they  were  always  a  great  deal  more 
interested  in  what  was  for  dinner,  and  when  it  would  be  Saturday, 
than  they  were  in  their  lessons. 

They  were  playing  on  the  beach  one  day  when  a  pleasant-faced 
lady  with  pretty  brown  eyes  and  a  kind  smile  sat  down  near  them 
and  began  to  make  a  sketch  of  the  sea,  and  an  old  boat  which  had 
been  hauled  up  to  be  mended,  and  some  nets  which  had  been 
stretched  out  to  dry.  She  talked  to  them  as  she  drew,  and  showed 
them    her  sketch  when   it  was  done  ;  and   Betty,  after  gazing  at  it 

272 


THE    THREE    B'S. 


273 


in   silent  astonishment    for    a   few   minutes,   exclaimed,   "  Can   you 
make  pictures  of  cows,  ma'am,  as  well  as  of  boats  and  nets  ?" 
"  Not  quite   so  well,"   replied    the    lady,   smiling,  "  for  cows  are 


■  THEY   WOULD   SPEND    WHOLE   MORNINGS    MAKING   SAND-FORTS." 

more  difficult  to  draw  than  boats  and  nets  are  ;  but   why  do  you 

ask?" 

"  Because  I   thought  you   might  like  to  take  the  likeness  of  our 

Jet  and   Pearl,  and   the  white   calf  that   hasn't  any  name  yet :  it's 

like  a  story,  and  it  would  make  such  a  pretty  picture." 

"And  what  is  the  story?"  asked  the  lady, 
is 


274  HOLIDAYS    AT    HOME. 


"  They  each  had  a  calf,  ma'am,"  said  Bell,  thinking  it  was  her 
turn,  "and  Jet's  calf  died.  Father  took  it  away  in  the  night,  and 
the  next  morning  each  one  seemed  to  think  that  the  calf  that  was 
left  was  hers.  They  did  not  fight  about  it,  but  one  seems  just  as 
fond  of  it  as  the  other  does,  and  it  does  not  seem  to  know  which  is 
its  mother." 

"  I  should  like  very  much  to  make  a  sketch  of  such  a  remarkable 
family,"  said  the  lady,  "and  if  I  succeed  in  finding  board  in  the 
neighborhood  perhaps  I  can.  Do  you  know  of  any  one  who  could 
take  me?" 

"  I  do  believe  mother  would,"  said  Betty  eagerly.  "  Her  spare- 
room's  empty,  and  I  heard  her  say  a  day  or  two  ago  that  she'd  like 
a  quiet  boarder  for  a  few  weeks  this  summer." 

"  I  am  very  quiet  indeed,"  said  the  lady,  laughing ;  "  so  if  you 
will  show  me  the  way,  we  will  go  and  ask  her.  I  shall  be  out 
sketching  nearly  all  day,  and  she  will  not  find  me  troublesome." 

Mrs.  Ferguson  was  very  glad  to  let  her  room  to  the  pleasant- 
looking  lady,  who  introduced  herself  as  Miss  Clayton,  and  who 
was  so  easily  satisfied  about  her  accommodations  that  Mrs.  Fer- 
guson said  she  "  wished  all  boarders  were  like  her." 

The  children  called  her  "our  boarder,"  and  took  a  lively  interest 
in  all  her  sketches  and  pictures. 

A  rainy  day  came  after  she  had  been  with  them  about  a  week 
— not  rainy  enough,  the  children's  mother  assured  them,  to  keep 
them   from    school,   but    quite    too  wet  for   out-of-doors  painting. 


JET  AND   PEARL   AND   THE  CALF. 


See  Page  274. 


THE     THREE    B'S. 


277 


BOB    DREW   A    BRVSHFUI.    OF   GREEN    PAINT    ACROSS    THE    PICTURE.' 


Miss  Clayton,  however,  had  discovered  a  very  pretty  view  from 
the  half-open  pump-shed ;  so  here,  with  Mrs.  Ferguson's  permis- 
sion, she  established  herself  and  went  to  work.      Her  sketch  was 


HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 


nearly  finished  when,  the  rain  having  ceased,  she  went  up  stairs 
to  open  her  windows,  and  while  she  was  gone  the  three  B's 
appeared  on  the  scene. 

For  a  few  minutes  they  looked  at  the  picture  from  a  respectful 
distance  ;  then  they  gradually  drew  nearer,  and  at  last  Bob  took 
up  the  brush,  saying,  "It  don't  look  hard  when  she  does  it.-  I 
mean  to  fix  this  hill  ;  she  hasn't  it  near  yreen  enouyh." 

They  were  so  completely  absorbed,  Bob  in  "fixing"  the  hill  and 
Betty  and  Bell  in  breathlessly  watching  him,  that  they  did  not  hear 
Miss  Clayton's  step  until  she  was  close  upon  them,  and  then  Bob, 
in  his  consternation,  drew  the  brushful  of  green  paint  across 
nearly  the  whole  picture. 

Miss  Clayton's  face  was  no  longer  pleasant  as  she  gathered 
up  her  drawing-materials  and  with  the  ruined  sketch  in  her  hand 
went  straight  to  Mrs.  Ferguson, 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said,  "  but  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to 
remain  here  any  longer,  Mrs.  Ferguson.  As  it  happens,  this 
sketch  is  of  little  consequence,  but  your  children  might  destroy 
more  valuable  work  and  more  valuable  materials.  I  can  have  no 
confidence  in  them  after  this.  I  will  pay  my  board  to  the  end  of 
the  week,  but  I  shall  leave  you  this  afternoon."  And  Miss  Clay- 
ton  went  to  her  room  to  pack  her  trunks. 

I  don't  believe  any  of  the  many  little  children  who  think  they 
must  touch  tilings  to  see  them,  and  who  meddle  just  because  they 
like    meddling,   ever    felt    worse    about  the    consequences  of  their 


THE    THREE    B'S.  279 


bad  behavior  than  these  three  little  Fergusons  did.  Their  mother 
lost  "  the  best  boarder  she  ever  had,"  and  they  lost  a  pleasant 
friend,  but  they  gained  something  out  of  this  sad  experience :  they 
learned  a  lesson  which  they  did  not  forget.  When  Bob  had  told 
his  mother  all  about  it,  she  wished  to  explain  to  Miss  Clayton  that 
Betty  and  Bell  had  taken  no  active  part  in  the  mischief,  but  they 
begged  her  not  to,  for  "  If  we'd  asked  Bob  to  let  the  picture  alone, 
he'd  have  done  it,"  said  Betty — "  now,  wouldn't  you,  Bob  ?" 

And  Bob,  after  thinking  a  minute,  said  reluctantly  "  Well,  yes,  I 
believe  I  would." 

"  I've  just  one  thing  to  say,"  said  Mrs.  Ferguson  when  Miss 
Clayton  had  gone,  "and  then  we'll  let  bygones  be  bygones:  you 
like  me  to  call  you  my  three  B's,  but  if  you  don't  leave  the  army 
of  hinderers  and  join  the  army  of  helpers  before  long,  I  shall  call 
you  my  three  wasps." 


MAKING   A   TABLEAU. 


ID  you  ever  help  make  a  tableau  ? 

I  don't  believe  you  did  ; 
And  you   needn't  want  to,   either : 

it's  the  worst  thing  in  the  world. 
You're  dressed  in  foolish  old  fixings, 

and  twisted  and  turned  and  chid, 
And    it's  very  nearly  the  death  of 

you,  just    having  your   back  hair 

curled. 


We  were  feeding  Pug  and  her  puppies ;  I  was  standing  on  the  mat, 

And  Nurse  was  there  with  Baby,  and  mamma  was  at  her  lunch, 
When  Aunt  Alice  came  in  and  said  to  mamma,  "  Now,  Mary,  look 
at  that ! 
She's  the  one  for    the    Reynolds    picture ;"  and    she    looked    as 
pleased  as  Punch. 

Mamma  just  laughed  a  little,  and  said,  "  Try  it  if  you  will ; 

She  does  look  like  the  picture,  but  you'll  have  to  curl  her  hair, 
And  you'll  have  to  find  a  recipe  for  making  her  keep  still. 

But  if  you  wish  to,  do  it  by  all  means — /  don't  care." 

280 


'AUNT  ALICE  STOOD  ME  ON  A  CHAIR   BEFORE  A   LITTLE  GIRL." 


See  Page  283. 


MAKING    A     TABLEAU. 


28; 


So  she  took  me  off  to  try  it,  and  I  was  pleased  at  first ; 

I  thought  it  must  be  splendid  to  stand  in  a  large  gilt  frame. 


'WE  WERE   FEEDING  PUG  AND   HER   PUPPIES." 


You  see,  I  was  so  little  that  I  didn't  know  the  worst, 

But  I  found  it  out,  I  tell  you,  when  that  dreadful  evening  came 


Aunt  Alice  stood  me  on  a  chair  before  a  little  girl 

In  a  stupid  painted  picture,  and  dressed  me  up  like  that ; 


284  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

And  she  said,  "  Now,  Bertie,  do  not  let  your  hair  get  out  of  curl 
If  the  pictures  don't  go  off  well,  the  whole  thing  will  be  flat." 

If  we'd  only  had  the  pictures  first,  and  after  that  the  fun, 
Perhaps  I'd  not  have  minded,  or  not  so  much  ;  but,  oh, 

They  kept  the  pictures  for  the  last,  when  everything  was  done, 
And  every  single  thing  I  tried  to  do  they  nagged  me  so. 

They  stopped  me  in  the  middle  of  a  game  of  Blindman's  Buff. 

The  very  boy  who  was  to  help  to  make  the  picture  said, 
"  Don't  let  us  play  this,  Bertie — it's  very  much  too  rough ; 

There  won't  be  time  to  fix  it  if  you  should  spoil  your  head." 


They  had  let  me  take  the  cap  off,  because  it  looked  so  queer, 
And  the  gown,  because  it  tripped  me  and  nearly  made  me  fall ; 

But  Aunt  Alice   said,   "  I'll  call  you   when   it's   time  to   dress  you, 
dear, 
And,  whatever  you  are  doing,  come  the  minute  that  I  call." 

Now,  only  just  to  think  of  it !     I  heard  Aunt  Alice  scream — 

Yes,  she  did  scream  too — "Come,  Bertie!"  and  of  course  I  had 
to  go, 

When  I'd  just  been  helped  that  minute  to  strawberries  and  cream  : 
Yes,  I'd  like  to  see  Aunt  Alice  if  mamma  should  treat  her  so. 


'i^jl^^in l i_^_a^tr!ni^^Tt'?n?I][gI J i -: ir  I'.'fl'i'iFil  \" 


"THEY    STOPPED    ME   IN   THE   MIDDLE   OF   A   GAME   OF    BLINDMAN'S    BUFF." 

See  Page  284. 


MAKING    A     TABLEAU. 


287 


I  didn't  care  for  anything  :  I  tell  you  I  was  mad  ; 

But  I  let  her  put  the  things  on  me,  and  stepped  into  the  frame  ; 
The  people  clapped,  and  some  one  said,  "  Her  little  face  is  sad. 

It's  a  very  lovely  picture.     What  is  the  dear  child's  name  ?" 

It  was  not  worth  the  strawberries,  just  being  called  "  dear  child," 
And  I  did  not  at  all  wonder  that  my  little  face  was  sad : 

They  kept  me  standing  still  there  till  I  thought  I  should  go  wild, 
And  they  never  saved  my  strawberries  :  now,  was  not  that  too 
bad? 


A  YOUNG   EGYPTIAN. 


1T7HAT  a  very  solemn-looking  little  boy! 
'  '  He  does  not  look  as  if  he  had  ever  run 
or  shouted,  or  really  played,  in  all  his  life. 
Perhaps  the  strange  solemnity  of  the  land 
in  which  he  lives,  with  its  wonderful  river 
Nile,  which  until  quite  lately  hid  its  source 
from  explorers,  its  great  frowning  Pyramids, 
its  huge  head  of  the  Sphinx,  makes  even 
the  little  children  look  as  if  the  weight  of 
hundreds  of  years  was  upon  them.  Even  the  great  birds  which 
frequent  the  Nile  have  the  same  solemn  look — serious-looking 
pelicans  and  cranes,  beautiful  white  herons  and  ducks.  And, 
before  the  steamboats  came  to  frighten  them  away,  crocodiles 
showed  their  ugly  heads  in  the  river. 

Perhaps  you  will  think  that  this  little  Egyptian's  solemn  face 
is  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  there  is  no  winter  in  Egypt,  and 
that  he  can  never  go  coasting  or  sliding  or  skating,  or  have  a  good 
game  of  snowballing  or  help  to  make  a  snow-man.  For  there  are 
but  two  seasons  in  his  land,  spring  and  summer,  and  the  latter  lasts 
from  April  to   November.      But  if  little   steamboats   keep  on   fuss- 

2S8 


A     YOUNG    EGYPTIAN. 


2S9 


"WHAT  A  VERY  SOLEMN-LOOKING  LITTLE  BOY  I" 

ing  up  and  down  the  Nile,  and  inquisitive  travellers  go  poking 
about  among  the  Pyramids  and  ruins,  it  will  not  be  long  before  the 
solemn  ways  of  the  Egyptians  begin  to  grow  brisk  and  business- 

19 


290 


HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


like,  and  instead  of  behaving  as  if  they  had  "all  the  time  there  is," 
they  may  begin  to  act  as  the  rest  of  the  world  does,  which  is  very 
much  like  the  famous 


"  Old  woman  of  Surrey, 
Who  was  mora,  noon,  and  night  in  a  hurry." 


UNCLE   MOSES. 


'M   always   very  glad   indeed   when   market-day 

comes  round  : 
A  better    story-teller  than    old   Moses    can't    be 

found. 
We  call  him  Uncle  Moses,  for  he's  very  fond  of 

boys  ; 
He  is  always  glad  to  see  us,  and  he  does  not  mind  our  noise. 


He  sits  all  day  in  market  with  a  pile  of  queer  old  things, 
And  when  he  is  not  talking  he  smokes  his  pipe  and  sings  ; 
And  he  tells  us  made-up  stories  in  such  a  funny  way 
We  would  always,  for  the  sake  of  one,  leave  any  sort  of  play. 


They  all   begin  "  I   dreamed   one   night — "  and  I'll  just   tell   you 

one 
He  told  me  when  I  said  I  wished  that  I  mieht  have  a  Q-un. 
"What  for?"  asked  Uncle   Moses. — "To  shoot  birds  and  things," 

said  I. — 
"  So,"  said  he,  "  it  makes  you  happy  to  see  little  creatures  die  ? 

291 


292 


HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


"  I  used  to  go  out  shooting,  and  I  thought  it  a  great  feat 
When  I'd  bring-  a  lot  of  things  home  that  I  didn't  want  to  eat ; 
But  I  thought  a  little  different  after  what  I  dreamed  one  night 
I  saw  the  other  side  of  it,  and  nearly  died  of  fright. 


"SO  ONE   HE  PICKS  MY  DOG  UP,  AND  ANOTHER   PICKS  UP  ME." 

"  Six  great  big  black  bears  caught  me  out  hunting  with  my  dog, 
And  one  of  them  he  braced  himself  against  a  heavy  log, 
And  he  says  to  all  the  others,  '  Now,  if  you  want  some  fun, 
Just  hold  them  both   quite  steady  while   I  shoot   them  with  their 
gun.' 


WHEN    HE   IS   NOT  SMOKING     .  ,  HE   TELLS   MADE-UP  STORIES.' 


See  Page  291. 


UNCLE    MOSES. 


295 


"  So  one  he  picks  my  dog  up,  and  another  picks  up  me. 
And  two  of  them 'most  laugh  themselves  to  death  against  a  tree  ; 
And  an  ugly  little  fellow,  with  his  hair  all  in  a  mat, 
Says,  '  Fair  play  is  a  jewel !     Look  here,  I'll  hold  his  hat !' 

"  My  dog  he  howled  like  forty,  and  I  gave  such  a  scream 
That  I  woke  right  up.     My  goodness  !  that  was  an  awful  dream  ! 
And  if  the  things  feel  that  way  when  we  shoot  them,  don't  you 

see, 
If  we  do  not  need  to  eat  them  we'd  better  let  them  be." 


A   GENEROUS    DOG. 


^TJOUNCE  was  the  big  dog,  and 
*-*  Dot  was  the  little  one.  Bounce 
had  always  lived  at  Mr.  Barry's ; 
:  he  could  remember  no  other  home, 
and  Reginald  and  Florence,  who 
were  both  younger  than  Bounce, 
had  loved  him  ever  since  they  were 
babies.  He  was  a  great  black  New- 
foundland, with  large,  kind  eyes, 
and  a  bark  that  sounded  like  dis- 
tant thunder ;  and  not  so  very  dis- 
tant, either.  He  loved  both  the  children  devotedly,  but  he  seem- 
ed to  think  that  Florence  was  less  able  to  take  care  of  herself 
than  Reginald  was  to  take  care  of  himself;  and  whenever  he  had 
to  choose  between  them,  he  always  elected  to  go  with  Florence. 
Their  home  was  a  large,  pleasant  country-house  within  a  mile  of 
the  sea,  and  it  was  a  favorite  amusement  to  take  Bounce  to  the 
beach  and  send  him  into  the  water  after  sticks.  He  was  a  famous 
swimmer  and  not  at  all  afraid  of  the  breakers,  and  he  would  dash 
into  them  as  often  as  the  children   chose  to  throw  a  stick.      He  had 

296 


A     GENEROUS    DOG.  297 


never  had  a  rival,  for  he  considered  it  quite  beneath  his  dignity  to 
be  jealous  of  cats  and  chickens  and  rabbits  and  guinea-pigs,  and 
nobody  had  ever  thought  of  such  a  thing  as  wanting  another  dog 
while  they  had   Bounce. 

But  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Barry  and  Florence  and  Reginald  came 
home  from  a  long  drive  one  summer  evening,  they  found  a  little 
puppy  lying  on  the  door-mat.  He  was  so  extremely  small  that 
they  very  nearly  stepped  on  him  before  they  saw  him,  and  instead 
of  being  frightened  and  running  away,  he  got  up  and  welcomed 
them  as  if  he  had  known  them  all  his  life  and  had  been  anxiously 
waiting  for  them  to  come  home.  He  was  a  little  black  -  and  -  tan 
terrier,  and  Jake,  the  man-of-all-work,  who  was  an  authority  on  the 
subject  of  dogs,  said  very  positively  that  he  would  grow  but  little 
larger  than  his  present  size.  The  children  were  much  delighted 
with  this,  and  easily  persuaded  their  father  and  mother  to  let  them 
keep  the  little  waif,  who  had  evidently  been  a  much-petted  dog.  In- 
quiry was  made  in  the  neighborhood  for  his  owner,  but  no  one 
knew  anything  about  him.  The  only  clue  to  his  sudden  appearance 
was  the  fact  that  a  strange  carriage  had  been  seen  driving  along 
the  beach  upon  the  afternoon  of  his  sudden  appearance  upon  Mr. 
Barry's  door-mat.  Mr.  Barry  wrote  a  notice  of  his  finding,  giving 
a  full  description  of  him  and  telling  where  his  present  home  was  : 
this  he  tacked  up  in  the  post-office,  and  for  several  days  the  chil- 
dren were  in  hourly  dread  of  the  appearance  of  his  owner.  But 
when  a  week  had  passed  and  no  one  had  come  to  claim  him,  they 


298 


HOLIDAYS   AT   HOME. 


decided  that  all  danger  was  over  and  that  they  might  consider  him 
their  own.  They  had  "  tried "  various  names  on  him,  and  they 
imagined  that  he  had  showed  signs  of  recognition  when  they 
called  him  "  Dot ;"  so  they  had  chosen  this  for  his  name ;  and, 
whether  or  not  he  had  ever  owned  it  before,  he  soon  knew  it, 
and  answered  to  it  in  a  very  satisfactory  manner. 

At  first  Bounce  had  taken  very  little  notice  of  Dot :  he  evidently 
regarded  him  as  a  "  transient  "  and  quite  beneath  the  notice  of  a 
"  permanent."  But  when  he  gradually  discovered  that  the  stran- 
ger was  being  made  one  of  the  family,  his  indignation  rose.  He 
had  been  first  and  only  dog  too  long  to  find  any  pleasure  in  shar- 
ing his  rights  and  privileges,  and  as  Dot's  manner  became  more 
assured,  and  he  behaved  more  and  more  as  if  he  felt  entirely  at 
home,  and  considered  himself  as  of  a  good  deal  of  consequence, 
Bounce  grew  surlier,  and  from  letting  Dot  severely  alone  he  began 
to  growl,  and  even  to  snap,  at  him.  The  children  were  both  sur- 
prised and  grieved.  They  tried  to  convince  Bounce  that  they  were 
not  taking  any  of  the  love  which  had  always  belonged  to  him  to 
bestow  upon  the  little  stranger,  but  Bounce  either  could  not  or 
would  not  understand.  He  would  not  permit  Dot  to  eat  anywhere 
near  his  kennel  and  dish,  and  once,  when  Dot  ventured  to  help 
himself  to  some  of  the  dinner  which  Bounce  had  left,  Bounce  gave 
such  a  savage  and  menacing  growl  that  the  little  dog  fled  under 
the  porch  in  terror,  and  would  not  be  coaxed  out  for  a  long 
time. 


A     GENEROUS    DOG.  299 


Bounce  had  an  amiable  weakness  for  crackers,  and  was  always 
ready  to  "  speak  "  and  give  his  paw  to  be  shaken,  and  even  make 
clumsy  efforts  to  stand  on  his  hind  legs,  at  the  mere  mention  of  the 
word.  To  the  great  amusement  of  the  children.  Dot,  without  any 
teaching,  began  to  copy's  all  Bounce's  tricks,  and,  being  so  much 
smaller  and  lighter,  soon  succeeded  in  performing  them  better  than 
his  pattern  could.  It  was  touching  to  see  the  little  fellow's  humble 
admiration  for  the  great  dog,  and  his  timid  offers  of  friendship. 
He  was  rebuffed  again  and  again,  but  he  always  seemed,  when 
he  met  Bounce  the  next  time,  to  be  hoping  that  since  their  last 
encounter  Bounce  might  have  seen  reasons  for  changing  his  mind, 
until  at  last  Florence  told  him  that  he  had  "no  proper  pride,"  and 
that  he  ought  to  wait  until  Bounce  begged  his  pardon  before  he 
made  any  further  attempts  at  friendship. 

Bounce  was  as  friendly  and  affectionate  as  ever  to  every  one  else, 
and  his  spirits  always  rose  when  they  went  to  the  beach,  for  here 
he  was  supreme.  Dot  was  evidently  afraid  of  the  water,  and  no 
amount  of  coaxing  could  prevail  upon  him  to  go  in.  And  not  only 
was  he  afraid  to  venture  himself,  but  he  always  gave  a  howl  of  alarm 
whenever  he  saw  Bounce  plunge  into  the  breakers,  and  rushed  up 
and  down  the  beach  in  great  excitement  and  anxiety  until  he  saw 
him  come  out  again. 

"  If  we  could  only  get  Dot  to  go  in  once,"  said  Reginald  one  day 
as  he  and  Florence  sat  on  the  rocks  watching  Bounce  swim  fear- 
lessly in  after  a  stick,  "  I  don't  believe  he  would  be  afraid  any  more. 


300  HOLIDA  YS    AT    HOME. 

'  It  is  the  first  step  that  costs.'  You  know  how  afraid  you  were, 
Flo,  the  first  time  we  went  in  bathing,  and  how  soon  you  got  over 
it.  I've  a  great  mind  to  throw  Dot  in  a  little  way,  just  enough  to 
wet  him  all  over,  and  after  he  has  found  that  it  doesn't  kill  him 
he  will  probably  go  in  himself." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Florence  doubtfully.  "  He's  so  very  little 
that  I  don't  wonder  the  waves  look  so  frightfully  large  to  him  ;  and 
you  know  when  he's  badly  frightened  he  just  drops  on  his  back  and 
holds  up  all  his  paws  ;  and  if  he  were  to  do  that  he  would  be  swept 
right  out  to  sea." 

"  Oh,  I  should  not  put  him  far  enough  in  for  that,"  replied  Reg- 
inald. "  I  mean  to  try  it,  anyhow  :  he  loses  so  much  fun  by  not 
learning  to  swim,  and  Bounce  crows  over  him   so  about  it." 

"  Well,  don't  put  him  in  far,"  said  Florence,  following  Reginald 
over  the  rocks  until  they  were  as  close  to  the  edge  of  the  sea  as 
they  could  go  without  being  touched  by  the  waves. 

Dot  was  a  confiding  little  dog,  and,  not  suspecting  what  was  in 
store  for  him,  had  been  caught  without  anv  trouble,  and  now  Reg- 
inald  gave  him  a  gentle  throw  into  a  retreating  wave,  saying  as  he 
did  so,  "  If  he  doesn't  like  it  he  can  just  scramble  out,  you  know." 

But  it  happened  as  Florence  had  feared  :  the  little  dog,  very 
much  frightened,  fell  helplessly  on  his  back,  and  a  great  wave 
swept  him  away  before  Reginald  could  catch  him.  Bounce  had 
come  out,  and  was  standing  on  the  rocks,  but  as  Dot  disappeared 
he    plunged    in,   and    almost    before    the   children   had   time   to  be 


A     GENEROUS    DOG. 


30I 


frightened  came  out  again  with  his  small  rival  in  his  mouth.  Dot 
lay  still  for  a  few  minutes  as  if  stunned,  and  the  big  dog,  evidently 
thinking-  him  dead,  gave  a  dismal  howl  and  began   licking  the  little 


"REGINALD   GAVE   DOT   A   GENTLE   THROW   INTO   A    WAVE." 

one's  face.  Dot  "  came  to "  almost  immediately,  and  was  soon 
frisking  about  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  but,  to  the  surprise 
of  the  children,  Bounce  no  longer  regarded  him  as  an  enemy  ;  and 
they  thought  it  quite  as  curious  that  Dot  seemed,  immediately  and 


302  HOLIDAYS    AT   HOME. 

entirely,,  to  understand  the  change  in  Bounce's  views.  They  ate 
out  of  the  same  dish  ;  Dot  marched  boldly  into  Bounce's  kennel, 
and,  under  the  protection  of  his  big  friend,  soon  ventured  into  the 
water  and  forgot  his  fears.  Bounce's  friendliness  was  as  great  as 
his  enmity  had  been,  and  the  two  dogs  became  almost  inseparable. 
"And  the  moral  of  that  is,"  said  Florence  one  day  when  she  and 
Reginald  were^_discussing  the  change  in  Bounce's  views,  "  that  if 
we  don't  like  anybody  we'd  better  go  to  work  and  try  to  do  some- 
thing for  him,  and  see  if  that  will  not  make  us  like  him." 


THE   END. 


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